Under the Gray Willow Tree

Chapter 11

When I opened my eyes, I was startled for a split-second, as to why I was not at home. Not lying on my bed, in my room, with sunlight streaming in through the gaps between the magenta coloured curtains.

I shot up quickly, but the pain in all my limbs, ribs and back refused to allow me to stay up for long. Body, why do you not like me? I ended up lying down again on the bed, groaning non-stop in pain.

I stared straight up at the white ceiling, only to find myself staring straight into a lit up white light bulb just a second too late. Which explains, very much why my eyes are hurting so badly. And it's all because of staring straight into the blinding light.

So I ended up squinting my eyes so that the light would not hurt my eyes just as much. I allowed them to adjust to the light first, before taking in the rest of my surroundings.

I could hear the faint but steady beeping of a machine. I scanned my surroundings carefully. I could see a needle pricked into my left arm, pricked in such a way that it avoided my vein, so that it would not burst open.

I could see a boy with dark brown hair and light coloured eyes sleeping soundly on an armchair by the window, streaks of sunlight falling onto his handsome face. He looks so... Familiar... I wonder why? And then, I randomly remembered why I was even here in the first place.

A car – no, it was a truck – hit the passenger's side of Gray's silver Toyota Altis.

I flinched at the memory of the crash. Which was a bad thing to do. Because pain immediately shot up my body. I groaned.

But that was a terrible memory nevertheless. I know very well that I want to forget it totally. Erase it from my mind. But my brain is not a memory card. And I can't just simply erase any memory that I remember. I am very sad to say this, but I have a pretty good memory.

I am not trying to brag or anything – I am not an egoistic person, note that! – but this is the truth. And I don't lie. So it is extremely unlikely that I will forget this incident for a very long time to come. Maybe I might never even forget it!

I just hope that will not happen.

I just hope that I will be able to forget all this.

I watched, from the corner of my eye, as the boy sitting in the armchair by the window stirred.

"Willow..." I heard him mumble in his sleep.

Sleep talking. I am not sure I've heard many people sleep talk before. Who is that? I stared at him curiously, wondering who that is. And that was when it hit me. I do know this guy. No wonder he looks so familiar in the first place.

"Gray?" I breathed, a little louder than I initially intended to say.

His eyes immediately shot open; panic and worry flashed in his eyes. That made me very nervous. I started breathing unevenly. The beeping of the machine grew unsteady.

"Is everything alright? What's wrong?" I blurted out hastily.

His grey eyes, which were darting around the place, finally met my own and I watched him sigh in relief. "Oh, thank goodness you're awake."

He walked over to the side of my bed and pecked me swiftly on the lips. His sudden calmness did not fool me at all, not even in the slightest.

"What's wrong?" I demanded.

"Nothing," he muttered, shaking my head as if to emphasize his statement.

"What's wrong?" I tried again, my voice more demanding than before.

"Nothing," he snapped back. "Just drop it, okay?"

I sighed. As much as I hate to just 'drop it' like that, I had to. I had no energy to argue with him right now. "Fine."