How I Was Saved // Oliver Sykes

Before - III

        The sun peering through the blinds peels my eyes open. In the seat across from the hospital bed is Oliver. I blink and try to recapture all of yesterday. It all rushes back to me in a wave of nausea. I quickly look around the room and find a tiny black trash can hiding beside the bed. I puke all of yesterday's disgusting memories into the now filthy trash can and try to catch my breath. Finally finished, I push my hair out of my eyes and lean back on the uncomfortable pillows. Oliver is now awake and staring at the trash can. My eyes widen and I feel disgusted by myself. "I'm so sorry you had to see that," I mutter, barely audible. He stands and walks to the bedside without the trashcan. His hand falls to my cheek and he gives me a weak smile. "Are you sure you're ready to go home today? I can speak to the nurse about letting you stay a little while longer," he offers. I quickly shake my head, another wave of nausea hitting me. I swallow down another round of bile and force myself to look at him.

        "I'm not staying here another day. Plus, you need me to come with whomever to Nolan's.." I close my eyes at his name. Oliver leaves my bedside and walks to the door saying, "I'll go to sign you out, then. But you're not going back over to Nolan's, darling." He winks and leaves the room. Butterflies flutter in my stomach but I quickly hush them with thoughts of my new home.

        What if the rest of the band doesn't want me there? I'll just be in the way. Oliver's just trying to comfort me with false hope. Will I really go with him? The door clicks open and in walks Oliver. "The receptionist at the front desk let me sign you out and says we can leave now. Can you pull out the IV or do you need me to?" He asks me, his brown eyes sparkling. I nod and manage to pull them out, also pulling off the heart monitor. I stand on shaky legs and turn to Oliver who has a slight smile playing on his lips. "Would you like the clothes you came in with?" I nod and look around the small room for them. He chuckles and picks them up from the table, handing them to me. I smile at him and duck into the bathroom.

        It's a dimly lit, small excuse for a bathroom. The low lights play on the yellow walls, making it look smaller. I quickly change out of the hospital gown and into my familiar clothing. They smell like sweat and metal. I look at my reflection and notice a spot of blood just above my heart. I sigh and leave the bathroom.

        Oliver already has a foot out of the door, offering his arm to me. I smile brightly and take it gladly. He leads me down the white and bleach-smelling hallways and to the receptionist's desk. He nods to her a quiet thank you and takes me out of the automatic doors and into the parking lot. He gently pulls away from me and takes out his car keys. Pushing a button, a car in the front row, black and slick, beeps loudly. He turns to grin at me and opens the door for me. My tummy flutters. Who knew Oliver was such a gentleman?

        He closes it behind me and walks to the driver side door. Once inside the car, he turns it on and we drive out of the parking lot and into the busy streets of Santa Monica.