Chapter 13- Make Up Your Mind

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Alice’s POV

The soft singing wakes me up again.  This time, I force myself to stay awake, wanting to hear more of the lilting melody than I want to rest.  Unfortunately, the singing cuts off abruptly, to my extreme displeasure. 

“Alice you’re awake!  Let me go get a nurse.”  I rub my index fingers into the corners of my eyes, trying to get rid of the sleep sand. 

                I open my eyes to see a much disheveled looking Xavier getting up and exiting the room.  Sighing, I lean back into the pillows.  He must have spent the whole night here, judging from the extra pillow and blanket tucked into the corner of the chair.

                Why does he care so much?

                I am dressed in one of those flimsy hospital gowns with an IV inserted into a vein on the inside of my wrist.  Multiple monitors are taped to the skin of my chest and one on my right forefinger.  I could care less about the monitors, but the needles are seriously bothering me. 

                Blech, needles.  I hate needles. 

It’s more of a childhood phobia actually.  I was one of those kids constantly hurting themselves, getting in some kind of trouble or another.  I had been to the ER on more than one occasion for various injuries and illnesses.

The pleasant dullness cloying my senses confirms my suspicions; I am being given either morphine or Demerol through the IV drip.  My left shoulder is sore but not that bad, most likely due to the numbing effects of the drugs. 

A thought pops into my head.  I know it is a bad idea, but I really don’t care at this point.  I have too much pride not to do it. 

I sit up gently, taking care to keep my left shoulder away from the bed railing and drip.  Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I pause to wait for the dizziness and ringing in my head to recede. 

Total vertigo rush, and not in the good way. 

The floor is cold against my bare feet, shocking me awake as most of the drug-induced dizziness fades away.  With my thumb and forefinger, I gently peel off the monitors.  The machine next to the bed starts going haywire, beeping and shrieking in annoyance. 

I could honestly care less. 

The IV pole is mounted on wheels, for which I am immensely grateful that I can move around with the thing.  I easy my body weight onto my feet, relieved that my legs are strong enough to support my body.  With slow shuffling steps I head to the adjacent restroom, tugging the IV drip behind me. 

Good God this makes me feel old. 

I have just closed the restroom door when I hear the hospital room’s door being thrown open.  “Alice!  What’s going on in here?  Where are you?”  Xavier sounds honestly freaked out, and I briefly debate the merits of letting him suffer for the moment.

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