What If..?

Chapter Three

|Song: Hospital- The Used|

I hear muffled voices, but I cannot move nor even make a sound to let whoever know I am awake now.

"He's in critical condition, Sir. He's lucky to even be this stable with the damage done to his body." One of the voices becomes clearer.

Definitely a professional, I think to myself.

"He's in a coma! How is that stable?" A second, more recognizable, voice nearly shouts.

"Mr. Callaghan is it?" The voice pauses before continuing, "Mr. Callaghan, he has endured more than what you are telling me. If you look at his arms-"

I can literally feel my world crashing around me. No one was supposed to find out about this. If he sees it, will he tell my dad about it too? An irritating beep becomes more prominent in my ears, loud and rapid.

"Mr. Callaghan, you have to leave this room." A feminine voice breaks into my thoughts.

"What do you mean? What's wrong with him?" Mr. Callaghan's voice grows farther and more panicked.

"I'm sorry, you are not immediate family; therefore, I cannot give you any information." The feminine voice speaks again before a click is heard, probably that of a door being closed.

I try once again to open my eyes and manage to, just a crack.

My vision is blurred, but I can see two figures in front of me. One of them grabs my wrist and prods it with a needle.

"Mr. Horan, squeeze my hand if you can hear me." I struggle but manage to tap my fingers against her hand.

"Two more times if that was your response." Again, I tap her palm with my finger twice, stronger this time.

I can feel the blood rushing through my body, feeling being gained in my limbs. I am hyper-aware of the pain across my body and just want to sleep it away. Ironic yeah?

My vision becomes clearer as the seconds tick by. My head is pounding with every beat of my heart, thumping in my ears. My throat is sore and dry, I can only imagine what I must look like.

"W-where am I?" I stupidly ask. Clearly, I am in a hospital.

"Midland Regional Hospital. Dr. Oliver will be with you shortly." A short brunette told me, getting a bit too touchy with my thigh.

"Uh... Thanks?" I awkwardly sat there, waiting for her hand to move.

She leaned over me, checking what seemed to be my IV tube, while ensuring that her breasts were held right in front of my face. "I-I'm gay!" I blurted out, lying through my teeth in hopes to get her off of me.

Apparently it worked because she scoffed and stood up straight before actually doing her job. I felt bad for lying, but I'd rather not have some slutty nurse in here trying to get in my pants. Last year I would have jumped at the opportunity, but I've realized girls like that are disgusting. I want a girl who has respect for herself.