This Is The Primetime (Sequel To "Try Not To Fall For The Blue Haired Douche")

Chapter 13

"Lauren lie down!" Matt said, pulling at my arms. 

"Where's Josh?" I asked. 

"Lauren lie down!" Matt said, pulling me back. I looked at him, tears stinging at my eyes.

"Where's Josh?" I asked again, my voice sounding hoarse because of the tears.

"Lauren you were just in a fucking car crash!" Matt said. 

I looked at him for a minute, and then took off running through the crowd of people, just trying to find Josh. I screamed his name so many times, before a doctor grabbed me. 

He picked me up to try and get me in the ambulance. I was starting to see red, but I still kicked and screamed. I screamed for Josh. Nobody would tell me where he was. This was unfair. 

Then my voice cut out. I screamed so hard, it knocked the wind out of me, and I crippled in pain, holding my stomach.

Then I blacked out. 

                                                                          . . . 

I woke up in a hospital bed. My arm was tightly bandaged, but not with a cast. It was with a gauze, so I guess I didn't break it. 

My hand was numb, and I unwrapped the gauze. I didn't care, and I unhooked all of my IV's. I couldn't move my hand for a minute, and I closed my eyes and focused. 

"Just move your fucking hand, Webb." I told myself. 

Slowly I bent my fingers, and made a fist. I turned my arm from side to side, then smiled satisfied. I wasn't wearing a hospital gown, so I figured I hadn't been there long. 

I didn't have my shoes, so I slowly dropped my feet to the floor. It was cold, and I tried to stand. My legs started to shake when they had to suddenly support my weight, and I bit my lip. 

"You're better than this Webb. You can do this." I mumbled. I took my first step, and didn't fall.

Second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and so on. Then I made it to the door. I managed to get myself to the front desk surely on will power.

The women there gave me a worried look. "Don't give me bullshit, don't tell me to go back in my room. Where. Is. My. Boyfriend?" I asked, leaning against the counter. 

"The man who was in the car crash?" she asked, after biting her lip. I nodded. 

She typed something in on her computer, then pointed to a room. 

"He's in there, but ma'am, are you sure you don't want crutches or anything?" she asked. I sneered. 

"I'm walking just fine. I don't need any of this." I said. 

I slowly turned, then walked to the door. I was sure the women was calling hospital security, saying they had a rebel patient or something like that. I didn't care. I just had to see him.

I opened the door, and thankfully nobody was in there. But I almost wished someone was, because sitting in the middle of the room in the bed, was Josh. 

He was in a hospital gown. His arms were above the sheets, then he was covered up until his chest. He had  bandages around his hands, one had an IV underneath it, he also was hooked up to a heart monitor. 

He had this weird thing up his nose to help him breath, I guess, and a bandage around his head. His face had about six tiny cuts dangerously close to his eye. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was a straight line. 

I made my way over to the bed, and sat down on the bed. I curled up next to him, careful not to disrupt anything. I put my head on his chest and squeezed his hand, ignoring the pain it caused me.