Pounding headaches and lenient muscle pangs woke me up from the nap I don't brood over taking. The last thing I particularly remembered was becoming awfully depressed over the turn of events that spiraled once coming home from the hospital, and I was in such a bad state that I began indulging approximately eleven of my antidepressant tablets before undergoing the most inferior, unfavorable migraine I've ever endured, which made me think it was a good idea to take a short nap before dinner, even though I knew quite well that I could've have easily slipped into a comatose state. Surely, it was a mistake on my part, but I really regretted it this morning since I was almost out of my prescribed medicine and the pharmacy wouldn't let me refill the bottle back up for another two weeks at least.
Although, today should be eventful enough for me, later on I have to get dressed and drive over to the hospital to have lunch with Ryley and Patrick, then I'll take a trip over to Target to grab a few things to coma-proof the house a bit, such as baby gates on the stairways, child locking the front door, buying some air mattresses to put on the floor of my room and picking out a night light in case Ryley gets scared of the dark. Once coming home from my errands, Ricky and I will be devoting the night to cleaning the entire house, but he doesn't know that yet.
Mentally, my best friend coming home from the hospital is becoming so surreal for me, and I couldn't be bothered to worry about anything else in moments time, except for the side effects of comatose patients. The list keeps multiplying by the second and I question, at times, if Ryley will even remember me. Surely, the doctor said she didn't have much brain damage, but what does that say about our relationship?
Things kept me up at night--when they shouldn't--and I sit up in bed with tears streaming down my face while thinking about where Ryley and I will stand once she comes home from the hospital. She sees us as 'just friends', but I see her as much more than that. Though these conflicts in my head don't seem to go away, I knew I had to go over to the hospital and see how Ryley was doing, maybe they would let her come home today if the luck was on my side.
After getting dressed in one of my nicest outfits--tan khakis, light gray sweater and black vans--I grabbed my keys and skipped excitedly across the hall to Ricky's room. The house was oddly quieter than usual, possibly because Connor and Jc are back home visiting their parents, but I suspected the house to at least have some kind of noise rushing through, not at all sounding so dead.
"Hey, Rickster? Want to come with me to the hospital, or are you staying here?"
Ricky motioned to the propped tripod and camera, "I was just about to film, but you can go by yourself if you want. I mean, last time I went, I felt like a ghost."
I nodded and reluctantly left him alone when he pushed the red record button. I jogged downstairs, grabbed my keys from the bowl in the kitchen and rushed out to the car before backing out of the driveway. I didn't see any point toward turning music on, the drive wasn't that long, only five minutes at the most. Once arriving at the most depressing place on earth, I unbuckled and headed into the building, gazing at the ambulance that had just pulled in.
Without any warning, someone ran me over with a gurney and didn't even mutter any apology before racing off down the hall, and the gurney didn't even have someone who needed medical attention on it. I rolled my eyes and wiped the nonexistent dust off my khakis while walking over to the receptionist desk in the Intensive Care Unit.
"Hey Angela, where is Ryley and Patrick right now? Are they in the cafeteria or outside for a walk?"
She gazed up from a few papers and sent me quite the sad look, which caused a pinging feeling to erupt in my stomach.
"Kian, Ryley is currently in surgery right now, but if you wanted to see them I can page Patrick's ringer when he gets done."
My heart dropped to my knees and I had nothing to say, for I expected the worst to come out of Angela's mouth. What could have possibly happened to Ryley that would require surgery? Did her heart stop unexpectedly, or did one of her lungs get punctured?
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That Broken Boy |♔| Kian Lawley
फैनफिक्शनit's in that moment you realize that all you hoped and prayed for might never come to be. depression sets in and you wonder if you were delusional, what did you do wrong, were you the one that caused her all that pain? --- accomplishments: •#1 in ki...
