WARNING: Book ahead is pretty cliche and my first work on here. It's got plot holes and a main character you might want to beat with a stick. Be gentle lol
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In the technological world in which we live, most teens start their love lives thro...
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The first thing I registered in the back of my mind as I slowly came back to consciousness was, Dang, I'm hungry.
My mouth felt dry and cottony, telling me that I needed water desperately; the fact that I could barely swallow alone made the need to open my eyes and search for something to drink a top priority.
The second thing that came to mind? What is with that annoying beeping sound?
With a groan, my eyes opened, squinting around with blurry vision. I could make out monitors and cords and with a little effort, I realized that my left arm wasn't moving. I rolled my head to the side and winced with the effort it took to find my arm. My entire body cringed as I viewed the obnoxious amount of tubes and needles that were sticking out of my forearm, leading up to a machine, AKA, the source of the annoying beeping.
It took a few seconds to let it sink it and finally register in my brain, but then it hit me and knocked the breath out of my lungs.
I was in a hospital.
Now, I'm not one of those people who has a morbid fear of doctors and hospitals. Check ups and shots were a regular thing around my place, so it never bothered me much.
However, what did send me into a frenzy was the fact that no one else sat in the room with me. I scooted farther back into my bed, crossing my arms as best as I could with all the tubes and what-not.
The events of the other night were fresh in my mind, coming at me in flashes and making me shudder. I wanted those memories as far away from me as I could possibly get them. The only problem? I blanked out and I couldn't quite remember what happened after that. I had the distinct feeling that it had something to do with my falling.
Looking to my left, I found one of those rolling trays right next to the bed, a clear mug of water sitting on top of it. With great effort, I managed to reach out and grab it, trying not to spill it on myself as I tipped it to get a better grip on the straw.
I drank the entire thing in record time, not bothering to take it easy. I just needed some sort of relief from my parched throat.
Sighing, I set down the mug and focused on other things. Like, for instance, the fact that my head and my tail-bone hurt to no end.
"I need meds," I moaned, beginning the search for that cool little remote that called the nurses.
"Oh?"
Cocking my head to the side, I noticed an envelope tucked under the standard box of Kleenex that hospitals felt obligated to provide. I grabbed it eagerly, lifting the flap and nearly squealing with joy when I found the sender, my pain temporarily forgotten.
Gab -
I'm not gonna lie to you - I can feel claustrophobia threatening to sink it as I write this from being in this hospital for so long. I've been here for two days. Two days, a full forty-eight hours that you haven't even fluttered an eyelash.
