Forked Roads Back

52 - ARCHIE

WHEN I FINALLY WAKE up, I groan. I thought I was done with all this hospital crap.

After all those surgeries on my knee, after all those physical therapy sessions, I thought I would never have to lie in a hospital bed again.

Wrong.

I've been here three weeks.

When I got here, I was barely conscious, and for nearly a week they had me in an induced coma so swelling on my brain could come down. Once I recovered from that, I then had to wait for my ribs to heal enough for me to be able to do simple things, such as standing. For the first few days, I could barely walk a few steps, let alone anything else, but now that I can do two whole laps of the hospital without help or breaks, I've been given the all clear to head home.

The first thing I did when I came to was text Lara. After saying I would meet her at home, she had probably been worrying what had happened. She's come to see me a couple of times, but in the last week or so she's been quiet.

I haven't told her the truth. Part of me didn't want to tell her because of the fact it was her brother that put me in here... and it would make her feel guilty, despite it not being her fault at all. Part of me also doesn't want to tell her because it's embarrassing.

That said, in all honesty, even if I am embarrassed, I admit he may have gone a bit too far... Even if I understand why he did it, the extent of my injuries proves he did more than a lot of damage.

When I finally came to, the doctors brought in the police, saying I should be pressing charges, but when I refused, they said I was crazy. Not in so many words, but I could see it on their faces.

I have four broken ribs, which was currently making it very hard for me to breathe properly, and anything faster than a walk was a no no. He had also broken my nose, again, separated my shoulder, as well as causing some internal bleeding in my abdomen from the force of the kicks. The worst bit was my face. Due to continual punches, and eventually kicks, to my face, he had fractured my cheek and orbital socket. The bone in my cheek, I've been told, is in fragments, so in a few weeks once swelling has gone down, they will put in a plate, causing more scarring. Right now, my eye was so swollen I could barely see out of it, but what mattered was that I could see... and that was apparently a blessing, given how much damage Billy had done.

To be honest though, I didn't care. One of the only good things to come out of this is that Billy had covered up my old scar with a new one... so I was choosing to focus on that at least, and not the sad reality that potentially awaited me when I finally got out of here.

I knew better than to report Billy though. Going to jail wasn't what he needed. He needed help, sure, but jail would only make his anger worse... or worse. I could see how angry he was as he loomed over me, and I could see that red in his eyes, but I knew that if I got him locked up, it would be the death of him, not to mention Lara would never forgive me... even if it may be the right thing to do.

But after three weeks at New York Presbyterian, I was finally heading home to face the music. Once again, the weather is gloomy outside, despite the awful humidity of New York City in thd height of summer, and as I stare out of the window, staring across the city, I can't help but feel the sky is reflecting my mood. I've got that feeling in the pit of my stomach, that same feeling I always have when things are about  to go wrong, and I'm doing my best not to think about it.

I'm still staring a few minutes later, but when a knock rings out from my door, I turn my head just as Dr Cruz lets himself in. He's a young doctor, or at least he looked young, and he's taken it upon himself to keep me company most days.