Saving Rose

1

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Someone's calling my name...I can't see anything. There are bright lights every where, I don't know where I am. I wince when I attempt to open my eyes, bringing pain to my head...the lights are so bright...

"Rose....oh dear Lord don't let her go....Please! Someone help me! Anyone!" Someone's yelling, I wish they would stop. It's hurting my ears.

I try to open my eyes again. Fuck. Bad idea. Where the hell am I? I feel strong hands lifting me up and then putting me down on something cold and hard. I stiffen, making the pain worse.

"Please ma' am. You can't come into-"

"No! Let me go! I can't leave her...again.." The annoying person, I'm guessing a woman, is still screaming like her life depended on it. Then it stops, replaced with multiple hurried voices surrounding me.

Something is ripped off of me, a rush of cold air washing over me as I feel myself being lifted again onto a softer surface.

"She's conscious!" A feminine voice ushers. A harsh voice rushes orders. I slightly open my eyes despite the pain, fuzzy outlines appearing. I wince as the pain worsens. I feel pressure on my arms then a prick. Suddenly the blurring vanishes, darkness sucking me under into unconsciousness.

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Monday

"When is she going to wake up? I-I mean is she going to w-wake up?" I hear a deep voice stutter.

"Sir, I have told you already, give her 72 hours. Her brain needs time to readjust to the amount of blood loss." Another deep voice but more serious responds. "But don't worry, we get cases like this often, I wouldn't stress to o much."

I can hear them talking..all of them..I don't know how long I have been here or who these people are. I can hear the slightest movements, I even hear them breathing. I know, that sounds creepy. But I always listen to them talking about this Rose girl or whoever. They seem really concerned about this girl, they keep asking when she is going to wake up. Who is she anyways? And who am I? Why am I here? Where am I? Damnit! Those questions..they keep coming to me, I can't make them go away.

I have given up on trying to open my eyes, but I have discovered wiggling my toes. I can't feel my hands but I can sense the presence of someone sitting next me. They are always there. I think it's a boy, by his voice. It's masculine and deep. I can always here him talking to me, at least I think he is.  He always sounds so sad.

Tuesday *******

I don't think they know I'm listening..but they know I can wiggle my toes. The boy told them. He freaks out whenever I wake up. He's starting to get on my nerves.

"Nurse! Nurse!" He said hurriedly, the sound of a button being pressed repeatedly annoyed me. Rushed footsteps entered the room. "She wiggled her toes! Does that mean anything?!"

The footsteps stopped abruptly, "No..that doesn't mean anything, it's normal." Irritation laced the nurses words, "And only press the button once. I'm always around the corner, I can hear it from there." I could imagine her face; tired, eyebrows creased, mouth slightly agape. If she didn't have stress creasing her face, then she did now with the help of the Pesterous Boy. That's what I call him now, it suits him. She leaves in the same manner she arrived, probably attending people with more important needs than Pesterous Boy.