"Looks like you're his next victim."
"Jesus Nova, didn't your mum ever warn you about creatures like me?! I'm not good for you and I'll end up ruining you or killing you!"
He wasn't human. There was nothing human about him. His blood was cold and hi...
"You live your life, you go in shadows You'll come apart and you'll go black Some kind of night into your darkness Colors your eyes with what's not there"
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Nova
The silent hum of the AC pouring out of the vent, the shallowed beeping from the monitor next to my bed, and the fluorescent white light above me makes my skin crawl. I've never hated anything more than the feeling of being trapped in a hospital. Having spent a month in one makes me sick to my stomach. I never got used to the cold air and the grim feeling of never seeing the outside world again.
"Miss James, you are currently suffering from a mild concussion due to the hard fall you took last night."
The white bulbs sting my eyes as I stare above me, counting the tiles on the ceiling to myself. This always helped me stay calm, letting my mind be distracted as they poked and prodded at my numb and tired skin. If I could just concentrate on how many tiles were laying above me, maybe then it wouldn't hurt so bad...
"In the next few weeks you may experience headaches, dizziness, nausea..."
I squint, trying to avoid the small squiggles and circles that come from staring at the bright light for too long. I always get a headache from the streaming and unforgiving light.
".....confusion, memory loss, fogginess...."
So far I've counted thirty three square tiles above me.
"....difficulty concentrating, appearing stunned, even double vision..."
Thirty four, Thirty five-
"Are you even listening, Nova Ray?"
I stop counting and slowly shut my eyes, hearing my mother's voice erupt through the small and confined hospital room. She sits in the chair next to my bed as I lay my head back, trying to avoid all contact with the outside world.
"Doctor Miller is trying to tell you what to expect for the next couple of weeks as you try to recover. Please try and pay attention," she huffs.
I can feel her eyes on me as I lay there stiff in the uncomfortable bed, wishing that I could just disappear and be anywhere but here.
"I'm sorry, please continue Doctor."
I open my eyes and look at the doctor who stands at the end of my bed, holding a chart and reading off all of the symptoms I may endure in the coming weeks. He's a short and fairly old man, wearing glasses on his nose with a little patch of grey hair on his bald head. He glances between my mother and I before nodding, ready to continue.
"Now we also had to go in and stitch up that gash on the side of your head. It was a doozy and you lost a good amount of blood before coming in here," he peers at me through his thick black frames that rest on the end of his nose, looking as if they'll slip off at any given moment.
