Chapter 62

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Oh my goodness...on June 16th. 2014 (almost one year ago) I was gushing to my friend about 40 reads...LOOK HOW FAR WE'VE COME.

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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, VOTING, AND COMMENTING ON THIS STORY AND KEEPING IT GROWING. I HOPE TO SEE YOU IN THE FUTURE WITH MY NEW STORIES. ILY ALL SO MUCH, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND.

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"Ma'am, you're positive you want to do this?"

"I'm positive," I weakly replied, my voice cracking on the multisyllabic word.

"And you've been informed of the risks of the surgery?"

"Yes," I answered, "I have."

"You're a brave little cookie," she smiled, making sure my IV was setup correctly. Doctor Winnie gave me a once over before returning her attention to my file and penciling a few things in. "Are you going to be alright by yourself for about fifteen minutes before we begin?"

I nodded my head once, watching as she left me alone in the bland, alabaster hospital bed.

Looking around my room, I noticed that all of it was bland—every inch of this hospital.

There was a small TV in the corner of the room, but the remote wasn't provided, so I was forced to stare at its reflecting black surface. The walls were swallowed in an untouched straw-colored wallpaper, the single rocking chair beside me was a dusty ecru, and the medical equipment was a glossy metallic silver. It was just...boring.

I looked down at my arm—the one sporting the strings and such of the IV—and sighed. My arm was a pale ivory, every trace of a tan forgotten. I wouldn't blame that on the weather, though; I'd blame it on my nerves.

I was petrified.

My skin was not only the shade of an untoasted marshmallow, but was also sticky. My short, inky-colored hair was sticking to the merely unnoticeable beads of sweat running along my forehead and neck. And my flowery gown was magnetizing to the moisture on my thighs, stomach, and shoulders.

Like I said, I was petrified.

My eyes, dehydrated and sore, burned as they stared into the unnatural lighting of the institution, and I had to hold back a wave of nausea as I thought about what was to come next.

Although my body had long since gone numb, I remembered the exchange vividly. It was almost as if I was an entirely separate person floating above the scene, watching the events unfold and the people panic beneath me.

My mom had rushed Anastasia and me to the hospital immediately. Between my tears and the unruly downfall of rain, I couldn't make out what was only a mere three feet before the car. Fortunately, I wasn't the one driving.

We made it to the hospital in record time, surely breaking a few laws along the way, because honestly, when you're in crisis mode, the speed limit isn't your biggest concern.

Although I was almost certain that bribery was involved, I wasn't complaining when the receptionist unwillingly shared with us the details of Joey's accident. The airplane—he hadn't flown via jet—had crashed due to engine failure, or something of the sort. Anyhow, a multitude of first class passengers were injured and rushed to the hospital, Joey included.

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