You Make Me ▶▶A Hunter Hayes Fanfiction◀◀

Chapter 10

My eyes flutter open to the sound of voices. An annoying beeping sound makes my head throb. The ceiling above me is plain white with a single bright light. I squint, but then allow my eyes to open completely when they have adjusted.

I attempt to sit up, but a sharp pain in my abdomen forces me back down into a lying position with a groan.

“Miss, how do you feel?”

I turn my head. There, in front of me, is a tall man wearing a suit with a white coat over it all. He’s holding a clipboard in one hand and a ball-point pen in the other. There’s a name tag pinned onto the white coat that reads, “Dr. Oaks.”

“I, uh, my side really hurts,” I croak. Suddenly, memories flood through my mind. I see Ginny up on the ledge, I see her falling, I see myself falling, I see Ginny lying in a pool of blood, and I see myself lying next to her. I gasp, “Ginny! The baby! Oh my go-”

“Please, calm down, miss,” Dr. Oaks prompts me with caring eyes.

My breathing intensifies. “Please. Please, tell me what happened to them! They’re all I have left!”

He sighs sadly, biting his lip. “Miss,” he starts, his voice low and cautious. “The woman that also fell… she died on impact.”

No. No. No. No. No. Tears well up in my eyes as my breath hitches in my throat. “Oh, Ginny…” I cover my mouth with a shaky hand.

“And your baby didn’t make it either. I’m so sorry, but you landed right on her.”

I scream.

I wake up screaming and thrashing in my bed. My breathing is ragged, oxygen unable to enter my lungs easily. I wheeze in and out, sweat dripping from my face and my arms. I throw the covers off of my legs and run into the bathroom, where I throw up all of my stomach’s contents into the toilet.

Still shaking, I flush the toilet and stand in front of the mirror. My reflection looks like the ghost of myself. My eyes are sunken in and my cheeks are hollowed out. I look… dead.

Tears threaten to spring up on me again. I bite my lip hard and squeeze my eyes shut.

Numb the pain.

-

I slam the glass onto the bar. “More.”

The bartender appears in front of me, and I’m sure he’d look handsome if it weren’t for my swirling vision. He sighs deeply before filling my glass halfway. I shoot him a glare. “Fine,” he mutters, pouring it to the top. I hand him more money for the drink before chugging it down.

I slip off the barstool, stumbling over onto the dance floor. I don’t dance, and no one really notices me. I just stand in the middle of all the sweaty bodies and stale air. The different colored lights are like fireworks, always moving in sync with whatever song was playing.

A slight buzz started echoing through my skull. It was a good buzz. It meant that the memories are gone.

Two years ago, after my world was sucked from me, I fell into a bad drinking habit. I was considered a lost cause and an alcoholic. I was never sober enough to go to the store, so I almost starved to death at least twice. I would fill my stomach with drinks to take the place of my baby. Abigail. She would’ve been a beauty. I went to crowded bars so I was never alone, the drunks and locals taking the place of Ginny.

But I still have a gaping hole in my heart where they used to be.

I don’t know how long I stand there, but after a while, I notice that the place starts to get even more crowded. Or maybe it’s just my clouded mind playing tricks on me.