The World is Broken

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"Watch out!" Valerie screamed at the top of her lungs, her fingers pointing in horror at the car that just swerved to her side in a frenzy.

She awoke with a start to an empty hospital room. Sweat beaded at the nape of her neck and fell onto the collar of the crusty, disinfectant-smelling hospital gown. Her right arm was sandwiched in a rough cast; she could feel a nerve-wrecking itch forming its way in the crease of her elbow.

Valerie sat up to inspect the room around her and winced in pain. She breathed heavily as the pain took its toll on her body, crawling from rib to rib. Through strained eyes and labored breaths, she looked at the nurse who had just entered the room. Her name tag read Lucy, and she had about the expression of absolute busyness, as if the entire weight of the world rested on her shoulders and she was solely tasked with salvaging the last remnants of humanity.

Lucy barely glanced at the charts and clicked her tongue in annoyance, "The doctor is discharging you today since your vitals look good. You'll need to sign these papers."

Lucy pushed a clipboard with a loosely attacked pen into Valerie's arms and turned to leave with as much speed as she checked the charts. Valerie looked dubiously over her discharge form and slowly a question formed within the folds of her morphine-buzzed brain.

"Excuse me," she called to Lucy, "how is my sister? She... she came in with me yesterday."

Lucy clicked her tongue once more, as if irked that Valerie had kept her back from her earth-saving mission. "Your sister got into a coma this morning in the ICU and hasn't woken up yet."

A coma. The word made no sense to Valerie; Dana had been with her only hours before. Dana had been lucid, conscious, and was even berating her for her life choices. And now? Now she was beyond reach, in a never-ending dream state.

Valerie looked at her discharge papers in disgust—she couldn't believe that she was the one to be discharged while Dana lay in a coma. It hardly seemed fair to Valerie, who was starting to feel immense amounts of guilt. After all, she was the one who decided to act like a rebel without a cause. She was the culprit—the one to blame—and for that, she believed she should suffer.

Valerie pushed the clipboard aside with indignation and got to her feet. Without bothering to remove her hospital gown or wear slippers, she walked barefoot through the hallway towards the ICU units. She walked with speed, the ache in her heart propelling her forward as if following the threaded artery that connected both sisters.

Valerie continued following the corridor towards it end, her eyes wildly searching the rooms she hastened across. She was desperate; she wanted her eyes to lie. She wanted them to paint her an image of a perfectly healthy Dana.

Suddenly, she heard a heart-wrenching sob come from the final room on the right. She stopped dead in her tracks and her heart leapt from her chest. Dana's room.

She heard a harsh intake of breath coming from within her, and soon felt like her head was floating towards Dana's room. It was an out of body experience, no doubt, as she couldn't feel her legs carry her inside the room. Her eyes abandoned their deceit and instead painted a gruesome portrait of reality that smacked Valerie's breath short.

Dana's body was poked and prodded; she lay lost within the embrace of IV tubes. The shock was too extreme for Valerie; she felt herself fall to her knees by her sister's bedside. The tears welled at the rims of her eyes until all she saw was a white blur in front of her. For the first time since the accident, she allowed herself to fully sob.

"I'm sorry," she breathed through her sob-filled tears, "I'm so sorry."

Valerie felt her mother pat her shoulder for the first time since she arrived at the room. She looked from her tears at a red-eyed Suzanne and stood up, ready to take her in her arms.

"It's okay, honey," Suzanne cooed in her ears, "it'll all be okay, soon."

Valerie remained frozen at her sister's bedside until the late afternoon. During that time, her parents sat in a corner chair, both praying vehemently for Dana to wake up. When she began to feel the icy floor prick her bare feet, Valerie found the courage to get up and change in her room.

*****

Alone in her room, Valerie felt the haze drift from her mind. She was able to think clearer and eventually found the ability to fill out her discharge form.

With the form out of the way, she stripped down the lightweight gown and changed into normal clothing. She found a stack of clothes that her mother must have brought in neatly folded on the corner chair. Hanging from the chair was a strange looking black leather jacket.

Valerie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment until realization dawned upon her. It's the man's jacket, she thought, he must have forgotten it.

Valerie heard the nurse, Lucy, enter the room abruptly. "Have you signed your forms yet?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm ready to go now." Valerie hesitated for a second, holding the man's jacket in one hand and the discharge forms in the other.

Lucy eyed her dubiously, "Is there something wrong?"

"Actually, there is..." Valerie looked at her, then at the jacket, "this jacket belongs to the man who brought us in after the accident. Do you know how I can reach him?"

"Let me check the log," Lucy said, "he might have left his contact info."

"That would be great," Valerie handed her the forms, "thanks."

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