Conversations With Ana

22

But here, hours felt like days and days like weeks.

Finally, though, I heard my door open and a doctor enter.

I looked up and stared at him.

He wore the same sympathetic look that the nurse did.

"Hello, Ana. How did you sleep?"

"I didn't."

He chuckled nervously and stood in front of me, checking my charts.

I watched him for a few moments then asked: "What's wrong with me?"

He sighed and sat down in the chair that was across from me, taking my hand in his.

I waited.

After a few minutes he said: "You broke your left leg and got a mild concussion. We had to do minor surgery on your leg, but you should be fine. We'll give you painkillers and all, but you'll have to stay off of it for a while."

I nodded and asked: "What about my friends? How are they?"

He patted my hand as he stood up.

"We'll talk about them later. For now, your parents are here to see you."

He left and my parents came in.

My mom was crying, of course.

She cried about everything.

My dad wore a grimace as he ducked down and kissed my head.

My mom sat next to me and stroked my hair as she asked: "How're you feeling, sweetheart?"

"I'm feeling fine. But I'd feel a lot better if someone told me what happened to my friends!"
My mom winced and looked away.

My dad spoke up: "Pumpkin, you were just involved in a serious accident. You need time to recouper-"

"Don't tell me what I need! What I need is to know how Rose, Gordon, and Shane are doing!"

My dad looked hesitant then sighed and nodded.

"I'll find out what I can for you. While I do, rest a bit. You look tired."
I didn't say anything about how I didn't sleep, I just thanked him then pulled the blankets over my head, closing my eyes.

My mom sat in one of the chairs while I napped.

When I woke up, it was Mel who was sitting in a chair next to bed.

She was working on homework, though it was stained with tears and coffee.

"I don't think you're teacher is going to accept that."
Her head snapped up and a small smile formed on her face.

She shut her textbook and put it on the chair next to her.

She intertwined her fingers with me and a pang of sadness went through me, remembering how Rose and Gordon would tangle our fingers together all the time.

"You look horrible, Ana."

"You do too."

She shook her head and sighed.

"It's not funny. We were all really worried."

I shrugged and pulled my hand away from her, folding both my hands on top of my stomach.

She grabbed my arm and shook it as she shouted: "Ana! It's not a matter you can shrug off! You just went missing and we were all so scared but then suddenly you show up at a hospital miles away because you got into a car accident! What happened?"
I didn't even wince or look at her.

All I said was: "I really wish I could tell you, Mel. But I honestly have no clue what happened."

She stared at me then slumped down in her seat, dropping her head into her hands.

She left for more coffee after that.

I closed my eyes, listening to doctors and nurses outside of my room.

"Ana."

My eyes snapped open, hearing his voice.

He was sitting in a wheelchair and there was a nurse with a bored expression on her face pushing the wheelchair.

His right arm was in a sling and there was a cut on his face with stitches in it.

His blue eyes were full of sadness and hopelessness.

My lower lip trembled as I asked: "How are they?"

"Rose had internal bleeding. And Ana... I'm so sorry..."

My eyes widened and I shook my head, fast.

"No no no no. Please don't tell me he's dead, Shane. He's alive. He's gotta be. Right?"

He wouldn't look at me as he whispered: "He's alive but he's comatose, Ana."

I covered my mouth, trying to stop the sobs and horrible sounds that were escaping my mouth as my heart broke.

"I'm so sorry, Ana. They say all we can do is wait, but he hasn't woken up since his surgery.b He had a pretty nasty concussion."

I blocked him out, concentrating on trying to breathe instead.

When I finally was able to intake air again, I began to shout.

I cursed and swore and punched the bed and screamed his name.

Nobody stopped me, knowing that I needed this.

After a while, my shouting turned into quiet whimpering and I just dug my nails into my arms instead of throwing punches.

I wish I would've died in that accident.

It would've been better than this.

It was my fault.

All my fault.

Exhaustion fell over me and with a guilty feeling twisting my stomach into knots, I fell asleep.