Getting Wilder ✔️

issue thirteenth: broken not bent

I was ninety per cent sure I had died.

I felt like someone had glued my eyes shut. My eyelids prickled as if someone was piercing them with needles. I slowly became aware of sounds, drawling, low voices as if from across the ocean through my compromised hearing. I remembered the bright lights. Warm embrace. Deep voices. I remembered the sickening smell of antiseptics.

I lay still on what felt like a mattress and gradually came to my senses enough to make out soft voices. They seemed like words, but I couldn't string them together to wrest a coherent meaning.

I opened my eyes hesitantly, gazing at the familiar white ceiling. A dull white glow illuminated my strange surroundings. In a split second, everything returned to me and I wondered where Wilder was. 

Where was I?

"Nico," a soft, gentle voice I recognized spoke. A second later, I felt a warm hand on my forehead and turned my face slightly to see the blurry figure of my mom standing near the bed. "Honey, how are you?"

I tried to speak but found it too hard. My head felt like a rock, a dull, throbbing ache pounding in my temple. I gazed silently at my mom's tear-stained cheeks and deeply lined face when she finally came into focus and I croaked out. "Where am I?"

"Your room, honey," she whispered, gently stroking my forehead. "You are okay now."

"What...time?" 

"It's Tuesday honey, seven in the evening."

I groaned softly, wincing from the ache. "I was out an entire day?"

"The painkillers," she nodded. "You're okay now, sweetie," she leaned forward and gently kissed my forehead. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

I gazed at her, my brain still too fuzzy to focus. "Where's Wilder?"

Her face hardened at once, anger flashing behind her irises as she replied, "He didn't tell us anything and left."

I gaped at her, feeling my heart sinking. "He...left?"

She nodded and squeezed my shoulder gently. "We had doctor Newman take a look over you. Thankfully it wasn't anything major but you'll need rest."

I sighed and turned my gaze away from her, fixing it on the ceiling. I felt lead pooling in my stomach. I knew he was busy, but I couldn't believe he had just dropped me off at my place and left. Like he was simply doing his duty and wasn't really worried at all. "Okay."

She stroked my arm gently and got to her feet just as I saw my dad walk into the room. He looked stricken when he saw me, his mouth open and brows furrowed as he gulped. I vaguely wondered how bad I looked. He quickly strode towards me and shook his head, his eyes dark, swimming with concern.

"What happened, champ?"

I bit my lip. "Just...this...um play fight."

My mom clicked her tongue. "Who did this, Nicola?"

I gritted my teeth, feeling pain bolt up my jaw. "Forget it, mom."

"Nicola-"

"I said forget it."

"Camden and Rayleigh came along but you were asleep. I asked them to return tomorrow." My mom said. My stomach clenched uncomfortably at the thought. I felt guilty about the article and half wondered if they had seen it.

I didn't respond. My mom was quiet for a while before she strode over to my father and grabbed his wrist. I watched, shocked as she pulled him away to a corner of the room and started talking to him in hushed tones. I couldn't catch too much of what they were saying but I got little drifts of 'Called you many times, no response, irresponsible...'