reversing the clocks ━ g.hawthorne [edited]

11. take a shot.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The bullet is piercing through me again. I feel it. Again, and again. The sound of the gun is echoing in my ears. I can't see anything, but I feel it all. I'm so scared. Am I dead? I hope I'm dead. Maybe I could finally meet my mother once again.

"She's still alive?" I hear a familiar voice ask. Who is it? And why does her voice make me want to cry?

"She's alive, but unconscious. She bled out for long, so we're uncertain when she may wake up." That must be a nurse. Or a doctor. I don't know anything about the hospital.

The stranger sighed. And I feel someone grab my arm. "I'm so, so sorry, Vic. I should've been there for you," the stranger sniffs. "I should've been there for you all along."

Then she lets go and the room is silent.

Strange.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

I'm awake now. I don't know how long it's been, but I know that I miss my sister. The hospital blinds are shut, and the only light is the one from above me. It hurts my head.

"Alisa?" I call out, hoping that my dearest sister might be there. No reply. I try again, but this time an elderly woman comes into view.

"Victoria, you're awake," the woman says. She's a nurse, judging by how she's dressed. "You've been unconscious for almost 48 hours. Your head must be in pain." She hands me a glass of water, and I try to reach for it until the piercing pain in my right hand stops it.

"Ow," I wince. I look down at the wires connected to my hand and the bandages that wrap around my forearm. Right, I got shot. Yay?

"Your hand is still recovering, sweetie." She holds the cup towards my face and I take a sip. More specifically, I gulp down the entire cup like a woman starved.

"How long have I been... not awake?" I ask, uncertain of which word would be better to use.

"You passed out yesterday around 5 in the evening. You've been unconscious since then. Your sister brought you to the hospital at 6."

"An hour later?" I'm baffled. I've been bleeding out for an hour?

"Correct. Well, your food will be given soon, and you'll have to take your meds later. Please get as much rest as you need." With that, the nurse leaves me alone.

Fuck.

My head is just now processing what just happened. I've been stalked. Not surprised. I've been shot? Wow.

If I'm being as honest as I can be, I genuinely wish I had just died instead.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It's been a few days. The skin wound has mostly healed, but I still can't use my right hand. My bone is fractured, unsurprisingly. Alisa has been visiting me, but not very often since apparently there's been chaos at Hawthorne House. Something about a very risky gamble. Hah.