Fifty - Six

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Skylar's POV:

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Skylar's POV:

Fuck.

My head hurt. My throat hurt. My lungs hurt. My heart hurt. My limbs hurt. Every part of my body hurt.

So bad.

I would've groaned out loud in pain if I could've formed any sound from my mouth. Which I couldn't. For a whole minute, I didn't know how to move any part of my body.

It took every ounce of energy inside me to finally move my fingers. And then I opened my eyes, which thankfully, didn't hurt as bad as any other body part.

Blinking for a while, I looked around. It was a hospital.

And God, my head hurt so bad.

"Skylar." The voice was almost a whisper. But sounded very much relieved. And happy.

I looked away from the ceiling, in front of me.

"Mom?" Finally, something came out my dry throat. Which sounded more like a voice of a person who had ended up crying for centuries. It was that hoarse.

As if realizing how much I needed water, her eyebrows shot up and she picked up a glass before pouring water inside. Meanwhile, I tried getting up. A hoarse, groan escaped my lips at that. Instantly, I felt her arm behind my back helping me up. She readjusted the pillow behind me as I leaned onto it.

"Here, have some water." She sat down on the bed, in front of me. I gratefully, took the glass of water and chugged it down ignoring the burning sensation down my chest.

She took the empty glass from my trembling hand.

"How are you feeling, dear?" She asked. As I leaned my head back, I realized how tired she looked. Without her usual makeup. Or usual clothes.

"Better." My voice didn't sound that hoarse now.

I looked around the room. It was like every other hospital room. Machines beeping, an untouched food tray on the table beside me, an armchair beside my bed and a couch at the corner of the room.

I looked back at mom as she was about to say something when the door opened. Dad came inside with two cups of a steaming liquid in his hands. When he looked at me, his eyes widened a little.

"Skylar." He sounded relieved as well. "You're...awake."

I was more than happy to see their faces for some reason. But my head still hurt. At the back.

"Do you think we should call the doctor to check up on her?" Mom asked dad as he sat down on the arm chair, placing the cups on the table.

Dad looked at my uncomfortable face. I was already trying to wrap my head around the numerous wires around me. That thing was already uncomfortable enough for a checkup.

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