Broken Grace

Broken Grace (9)

So, uh, yeah, next chapter. haha(:

Something was stuck in my arm in the crook of my elbow. I tried to reach my other hand to feel what it was, but I couldn’t. My arm stayed where it was, not wanting to budge. I tried to open my eyes, but as soon as I did, they shut again. I was so tried. I was laying on something soft and mattress-like. I scrunched the cottony sheets in my hand weakly. I was laying on a mattress. My eyes popped open, thinking it was his mattress. My heart rate skyrocketed and the machine next to me started wailing. Wait, machine?

I turned my head slightly to see a tall, grey machine looming over me. I looked at the needle that was poking through my skin in the nook of my elbow. I was hooked up to an IV full of blood. I shuddered, thinking about all the blood I had lost. My right arm was bandaged completely. No wonder I couldn’t lift my hand up. I was practically in a cast.

“Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me, Grace,” a man’s voice said. It was Mr. Thomas. I tried to get up and get out of the room. Something didn’t seem right. I couldn’t remember very much, just bits and pieces. Like my arm being cut up and blood being everywhere. My blood.

“You were going crazy last night. You came to my house last night with all of these cuts on your arm. Were you trying to commit suicide? Grace, everyone has been so worried about you!” he crooned. He looked at me and I caught a glimpse of something. He was lying. I wasn’t sure what happened that night, but it sure as hell wasn’t what he just explained.

“I did?” I said, playing along. I looked out the door to the hospital room but I didn’t see anyone.

“Yes,” he told me, coming over and putting a hand on my arm. I flinched involuntarily. He noticed. He bent over to whisper in my ear, “You liked me touching you last night.” His hand trailed up my arm to my neck. His fingers lingered there for a while. I tried not to show fear, but I was so scared. I screamed when he came close to my lips. A nurse ran in with wild eyes, looking at me.

“Please don’t let him hurt me,” I said, the tears falling off my face. She pressed a button near the entrance of the room and moments later, a team of nurses came to my aid. I was still crying hysterically and one of the nurses glanced at one to her left and whispered, “There is no one in here.” Two came over and tried to comfort me as best they could.

          I was shuddering like crazy, unable to stop. One of the nurses was stroking my arm, still trying to calm me down. I pulled away, my eyes were scanning the room for him. I started to get up and the nurse to my left said, “Sorry hon, I can’t let you do that.” She looked at me apologetically and held me down. I was thrashing, desperately trying to free myself for her tight grip.

          “Can you grab the restraints?” she called to another nurse. She nodded curtly and came over to assist. She wrapped the restraints around my wrist and cast which pinned me to the bed. I shrieked and continued trying free myself.

“Would you call psych? We need someone down here now. Her heart rate is spiking and if she keeps this up, she could go into cardiac arrest. Give me some morphine for the pain. This should calm her down a bit,” she called over her shoulder. The lady injected the morphine into my IV tube and almost instantly, I started to feel drowsy. The nurse sighed a breath of relief. My heart rate was returning to normal. I could feel my breath becoming slower and I was calming down.

“Where’s Eli?” I mumbled to the nurse.

“What?” she said, not hearing my question.

“Eli…” I said, just before I went unconscious.

          I awoke once more in the hospital bed. It was a strange feeling. I was waking up in another bed, one not my own. There was a nurse checking on my vital signs. She noticed me and said, “Are you in any pain?” I shook my head no and she nodded.