My Shoulder To Cry On

Chapter 3

Hi people :) here is chapter 3 im sorry i took so long...school starts tomorrow so i might not upsate as oftern but i will try! okay love you bi

- shannon <3

I felt a strange sensation. I don’t know what it was or what it meant, but it gave me strength. I realized it was pressure on my hand, someone’s hand squeezing my own. I took my newfound energy and lightly squeezed back. I felt myself being lifted from whatever state I was in and back fully into consciousness. Then with a jolt, my eyes fluttered open.

I was met with another set of eyes in front of me. The tear-clouded, sparkling blue irises bore into my own. I took in the person staring down on me and saw the person that I wanted to see the most. Louis. I opened my mouth to speak, but I realized how dry my throat was. It felt as though it was impossible for me to get my words out. I tried for Lou though and managed to croak out the first words that came to mind.

“Hey Lou,” I managed to get out, “you miss me?”

A smile plastered on his tear-stained face and I felt myself being pulled into his warm embrace. His arms wrapped around my waist as he nuzzled his head in my neck and let the tears fall again.

“Thank god you’re okay Rosy,” he mumbled into my shoulder, “I don’t know what I would have done without my best friend.”

I smiled and hugged him back. He squeezed a bit tighter and I winced at the pain running up my right side. Lou felt my discomfort and immediately let go and took a step backwards.

“I’m so sorry Rose, I forgot your injuries,” he muttered with a worried tone, “You okay?”

“Just come back here you idiot,” I chucked as I motioned for him to hug me again.

He put his arms around me, cautious of my right side this time. Then to soon I felt him pull back again, this time not by choice. I looked up to see a tall, middle- aged woman with a bright smile on her face. She was wearing scrubs and was holding a clipboard. I assumed she was a doctor.

         “So glad to see you are awake Miss. Clemons, it has been 13 days,” she said with a warm voice, “I’m Dr. Rowsky.

         I smiled and nodded in acknowledgement as she directed me to listen to him.

         “I would like to inform you of your injuries Ms. Clemons, It is a miracle that you lived dear, you have suffered some serious damage,” she informed me.

         “I would like to ask you some questions first though,” she continued, “Do you remember what happened that night?”

         I looked down and nodded slightly.

         “Okay dear, now I’m going to ask you about yourself to check if you have suferred any memory loss, so tell me about you,” she added with a smile.

         I looked at Louis who grabbed my hand and smiled at me reassuringly. I opened my mouth to speak, but again the dryness took over my mouth and no words would come out. The doctor noticed the problem and reached over her shoulder. She handed me a tall glass full of ice-cold water and I greedily gulped it all down. I sighed as the refreshing liquid made contact with my throat.

         “Better?” she asked with a smile.

I smiled and nodded before clearing my throat.

         “Lots,” I said with a smile.

         “Okay then dear, tell me about yourself to see if you have your full memory still.”

         “Well erm…” I started nervously, “ My name is Roselyn Marie Clemons and I’m 17 years old. My birthday is on May 16th and right now it is January…..18th now?” I asked.

         The doctor nodded and motioned me to go on.

         “I was born in Doncaster, South Yorkshire England and want to be an artist. I live with my dad in a small house just down the street form my best friend Louis Tomlinson.” I said nudging Lou.

He smiled at me before I continued.

“I always have wanted a cat and I love the colour pink and fish and chips…”

I was cut off by the doctor chuckling as she out up her hand.

“Okay sweetheart, I think you remember.”

I nodded and smiled at her.

“The car crash you were in was horrible. Your car swerved of the road and collided with a large tree trunk. The right side of your body caved in, but with intense surgery we managed to fix all fatal injuries,” the doctor began, “over the period of your coma, most of your injuries have healed, but you be very sore, so you should take it easy. The only visible injury at the moment is a broken wrist, but that shall heal in about 1 to 2 weeks.”

I sighed as I looked down at the cast on my right hand. I guess I will have to be left-handed with my artwork for a while.

“Am I allowed to walk?” I asked politely, because I really wanted to stretch my legs.

“If your friend here helps then you can walk down to the cafeteria to get some food,” the doctor suggested, “but take it easy.”

“Thank you,” I said with a smile.

She returned it. I turned to Louis.

         “Shall we?” he asked as he held out his hand.

         “Yes we shall” I chuckled and he lifted me swiftly off the bed and onto my feet. It was a strange sensation because I haven’t used my feet for 2 weeks now. I leaned myself onto him as he half carried me to the door. Then an important though popped into my head. Something that I couldn’t believe I forget.

         “Where is my dad?” I asked Louis and the Doctor in worry.

         They both looked at each other sadly and then at me with sympathy.

         “I’m so sorry Rose,” Louis sad sadly, “You’re father didn’t make it.”

         Withy those impel words my world collapsed. My heart lurched and I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I felt my knees give way and I fell forward. Louis grabbed my waist before I could hit the floor and pulled me into his chest.

“Shh,” he cooed, “Its all going to be alright Rosey.”

I thrashed out his grip and tghrew my hands in the air.

         “It’s going to be okay?!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

         “How is it going to be okay?!” I screamed with tears streaming down my face!

“I’m alone! I have nobody now!” I cried.

I threw myself on the ground and sobbed, ignoring Louis and the doctor trying to comfort me. This had to be some kind of sick joke. All the sudden my dad is going to walk in the room and flash on of his funny grins. He is going to laugh and pick me up, saying how gullible I am. I slam my fist on the ground, ignoring the pain coming from my broken wrist.

I tried to scream again, but no sound came out. Words wouldn’t form on my tongue. I didn’t want them too. If my father could never talk in his cheery, loud voice ever again, then why should I be able too. It didn’t seem fair.

My sobs were still occurring, but no noise came out of my mouth. This is unfair. This is not right.

I’m not sure of anything going on in my life now. What is going to happen? Where am I going to go? There is only one thing that I am sure of.

I, Roselyn Clemons, will never speak again.