Killing Time

Chapter 9

Opening my eyes hurts, breathing hurts, thinking hurts. So I keep my eyelids closed but I push myself to keep breathing, to keep thinking. A vaguely familiar voice frets around me. I hear his footsteps as he paces back and forth, his occasional shaking of my shoulders. And his shouts, they sound like he's underwater, but that's just me.

"Alaska!?" He pleads desperately. Shut up I want to tell him, my head hurts. I can't speak, even my eyelids are too heavy to open. I haven't decided who he is yet.

"I should call Nevada." he mutters to himself "Yes, yes." He confirms.

He knows Nevada. I let curiosity get the best of me, and muster up enough strength to crack my eyes open, just enough. Everything is blurry, so out of focus. A fraction of a shoe is all I see before my eyelids lock themselves together again. A black converse telling me to 'stay strong'. I wish I could Lorenzo. I wish I could.

Everything grows silent. Finally I can try to sleep. I feel myself drifting away. And then his fingers dig into my neck, searching for a pulse. He drops his head to my chest. Nothing. I'm pulling away. I allow myself to stop thinking, to stop breathing because that's become unbearably painful. And so my body loosens, the last thing I feel is a slight yet enjoyable pressure locking against my lips.

*****
What an odd dream, I think to myself as I awake to the sound of a blaring ambulance starting to fade away. I flutter my eyes open, to see myself in a nearly empty room, I lay down in a small white bed wearing nothing but a polka dotted gown. A stinging sensation overflows my arm, I glance down to see a tube pierced into my vein. Simultaneous beeping is produced by the monitors connected to me.

My parents are outside the room, my mother stands there clamping a hand over her mouth, trying to block out the sobs that could so easily escape. But her emotion is written all over her face. My father, towers over her, clutching her, stabilizing her. A solemn doctor with grey hair, is talking to them.

What is he saying to them that could be so horrible?

I tilt my head to the right, only slightly. But enough to see her. She's slouched in a chair near the corner of the room. She's holding her head down so she hasn't noticed me.

"What happened?" I ask in a nonchalant whisper. But nothing about this is nonchalant.

She jerks her head and looks at me, her eyes almost instantly light up. "Thank God, you're okay. You fell Alaska. Badly." She takes my hand. I pull away, shocked by the gesture.

"Why are you here?" I interrogate her. She shouldn't be here, shouldn't see me. Not like this.

She leans on the edge of the bed "You fell in the park, Lorenzo found you and he called me too."

It wasn't a dream. I remember. A deep anger floods over me.

"You shouldn't have came." I state plainly, turning my head to look out the window. Away from her.

"Why did you come?" I spit coldly. I don't know why I'm acting like this. Maybe it's because vulnerability scares me.

I don't give her a chance to answer, "Get out." Our eyes meet. She looks caring and understanding, but I give her a blank stare.

"Get out." I repeat this time harsher. She starts towards the door.

I hear her mutter at the ground "I came because I care."

Instantly I'm hit by regret. Slammed into me harder than any concrete ground.

I stretch my neck to look out the door, Lorenzo is sitting there in the waiting room, running a hand nervously through his messy styled hair. And for some reason I get a ticklish feeling in my stomach.