Borgata - Book II #wattys2016

Chapter 18: Restraints

Ahoy, Pirates! Mommy is here. ;)

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"Fico can spank me," my sister @chrisrocks247 said, when asked what I should say at the beginning of this chapter.

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Mine wouldn't open. My eyelids felt too heavy. I felt a pair of hands on my body, softly assessing every inch of my skin. I heard a distant voice. It was feminine and told me everything was going to be okay. I knew that voice. Dr. Bianchi? Great, 'you're going to be okay'. Now I had to be dying...

Fico. I heard his name. Someone had mentioned his name. Where was he? Is Fico alive? Is he going to be okay? I tried to vocalize the words, but I could barely breathe. I also couldn't remember how I'd gotten wherever I was. I was paralyzed and in absolute agony. Help me! I can't move!

"I'm going to take care of you, Samantha. I'll get you all fixed up." I knew that voice. Dr. Bianchi? I felt a prick in my arm and the pain started to fade. I was relaxed, floating along surface of a pool.

Everything went numb...

My eyes fluttered open and I squinted at the bright light above me. There was a breathing tube was down my throat and I started to gag on it. When I tried to move my hands to free it from my throat, I realized that thick cotton straps restrained my arms. There was a beeping noise that matched the rhythm of my heartbeat. It was getting faster and faster as I weakly tried to get out of the restraints. I trashed on the bed I was laid on, choking on the breathing tube. I was going to die. I was going to die–

The door to my room opened and Dr. Bianchi hurried inside.

"You're alright, Samantha," she said and came to my side. "I'm going to take the breathing tube out. Try and relax. This will feel uncomfortable for a few seconds, and then it'll be all out." Dr. Bianchi's face hovered above me. She slowly slid the tube out of my mouth. I uncontrollably coughed the entire time. It was the most uncomfortable sensation I'd ever felt and left me with soreness in my throat. "You, my dear, are one tough cookie."

I stared down at my once broken hand, finding it wrapped in a cast.

"I had to put you under to perform surgery on your hand," Dr. Bianchi explained, loosening the ties on my arms. There was a cast on my broken hand and tubes and wires attached to my arms. "One broken hand, one fractured rib, another mild concussion, and severe dehydration. I also had to relieve some pressure in your right lung and flush out a hallucinate drug from your system. You were having trouble breathing on your own. Thankfully, you haven't suffered any internal bleeding. You've been here for a few days. And you're going to be here a few more, if I have anything to say about it. I plan on doing some further testing, including x-rays to make sure I haven't missed any broken bones."

All I could do was stare up at her as she spoke. I felt so...disconnected. I was listening to what Dr. Bianchi was saying, but not all of it was processing. Was this normal? Was this what being traumatized felt like?

"Fico?" I asked softly, but Dr. Bianchi didn't seem to hear me. She elevated my hospital bed and swung a small table around so that it hovered over me. She started to check my IV. "Fico?" I asked louder. "How's Fico?"

Her eyes saddened, but she didn't say anything.

"Is Fico... okay?" The heart monitor next to my bed spiked and my eyes burned. "He's not...? I mean...he can't be...?"