Silent Complications

Chapter 1

Alexander's P.O.V.

I could hear the sound of hushed voices, echoing throughout my head and I could not tell in which direction they were coming from. As my eyes slowly began to open, my vision was blurred as I saw two weird-looking blobs---once my vision fully recovered the two blobs came to be two of my closest friends: John Laurens and Angelica Schuyler sitting by my side with worried-yet-relieved expressions. I take in my surroundings, realizing that I am laying in a hospital bed; a table sat across from where I was, with bouquets of flowers and ‘Get well’ cards sitting atop of it.

“He’s waking up,” Angelica silently gasped out, a relieved smile forming on her caramel-colored lips. Her shoulders seemed to have now relaxed and she put a hand to her chest dramatically.

Laurens seemed to have perked up at her announcement of me being awake, relief washing over him as well. “Hey, Alex,” he spoke softly, “how are you feeling?” He asked while putting a gentle hand on my shoulder. Oh, how I missed them both while I’ve been asleep, he thought. But how long have I been asleep?

I offer a reassuring smile and open my mouth to reply: only a squeak came out and a burning sensation came to my throat. I wince in pain and raise a hand to my throat, only to feel a type of cloth wrapped around it---to my guess it is bandages. I lower my hand back down to my side, leaning back further into the mattress. 

I turned my head to look back at Angelica and Laurens once more: their expressions now read of sympathy and concern. “We’re sorry, Alex,” said Angelica, her voice almost a whisper. I think for a moment, trying to recollect what had happened to my throat when suddenly, realization hit me. I frown at the disturbing memories, pushing them to the back of my head with a small shake of my head.

Laurens sighed. “You’re lucky that the cut wasn’t too deep, or else you would not be able to speak anymore. The doctor said you won’t be able to speak for at least a couple of more months; as you know: the cut on your throat must heal first.” He explained a little sadly. 

I can’t speak? Not for a few months? What about my job? What should I do?

I was beginning to internally panic when Laurens spoke once more. “Um, can you do sign language?” He asked me while twisting and fiddling with his fingers.

Oh… right, I forgot about sign language.

Slowly did I nod my head in conformation. ‘Yes, I can. Been while though.’ I signed out to him with slightly shaky hands. Luckily, Laurens and Angelica had also learned sign language themselves---Laurens had learned in his sophomore year in high school; Angelica had learned during her free time at home as she would often get bored. Both he and Angelica sigh once again in relief simultaneously. Angelica seemed to have hesitated a moment before opening her mouth to speak.

“What’s… the last thing that you remember, Alex?” I could tell by the way that she asked me this, that she was scared---her voice had wavered. I gulped as cold sweat dots at my face and neck; I could tell that I most likely had turned pale, with my hands slightly shaking anxiously. I broke my gaze away from my friends, looking down at my lap; my fists gripping the snow-white sheets that covered the lower half of my body. I could only remember certain parts that had happened to me in the past few hours, most of it being too blurry for me to make out.

The burning pain of something sharp running along my throat---I lightly touch the bandages that covered the terrible wound once more… 

The entirety of my body becoming numb and unmoving, my vision blurring as I fall in and out of consciousness… 

My heart racing and the adrenaline rushing through my veins… 

Countless of thoughts running through my mind, echoing and bouncing off the inside barricade of my skull: will I live? What did I do wrong? Can I stop being afraid? Can this all go away? Just end me already!

Suddenly the horrifying memories came rushing back to me and I could not push them away any longer.

I sat at my desk in my room, typing away at my keyboard and typing out my essays---I was in the middle of my senior year at King’s College and exceeding in proficiency and citizenship (no mean to brag or anything). My (extremely) annoying and pompous roommate, Thomas Jefferson, had passed by my room as there had been a knock at the front door to our dorm. From what I could hear, the door had opened before closing a moment later---must have been a friend of his (most likely and preferably his close friend James Madison). There was some chatter, but it wasn’t what you would consider it in any way friendly.

Jefferson seemed to have been yelling something along the lines of ‘James, stop,’ and I could hear his yells coming closer to my room. Jefferson’s yelling was then cut off after a loud Thunk! could be heard. My head shot up in alarm only to see Madison, standing at the entrance with a knife held intact in his hand. My eyes widen as I stare into the cold, dark abyss of his eyes.

I shot up out of my chair, knocking it over in the process and stumbling backwards as he swung the sharp object purposefully in my direction. I yelp in pain and surprise as blade met skin, causing me to fall down to the floor and gripping at my throat to stop further blood loss. I wince and my teeth clench tightly. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t yell… I couldn’t call out for help.

I back away from the armed man, my back finally meeting the wall and I shy away in the corner. My throat burned and tears fell down my face as I sat there, on the floor, in anguish. 

Madison swiped at me once more, only this time he cut my arm (though it was not as deep as the one inflicted on my throat); a squeak managed to escape from my mouth, causing my throat to spiral into a more painful and burning sensation. Repeatedly he then kicked me against the wall for about a minute before I could hear a muffled out cry; I was beginning to fade in and out of consciousness, and all sound around me was fading into the background of the loud ringing in my ears. Before then my eyes closed and I was sucked into darkness.

That was all that I remembered last before blacking out.

“Alex, are you all right?” I was brought back into reality and my eyes shot up to look up at my friends again. “I’m sorry for asking you such a question.” Angelica added apologetically as she stared back with tears in her eyes, threatening to fall---a few tears had fallen down my own cheeks and I wiped them away. 

I shake my head and raise my quivering hands, signing out: ‘I’m okay.’ I give her a small and weak smile to hopefully reassure her. (It didn’t work as she faked a small smile in return to probably show that she was assured.) 

Angelica softly sighed before leaning in and gently hugging me, and I closed my eyes comfortingly. And of course, Laurens joined in on the hug as well. Before then I fell into a calm and deep sleep while still being in their embrace.