Radio Prince °alastorXreader °

° Hatred, Born From Ignorance °

Anthony lunged forward, yanking the phone from my hand and ripping the charger from the wall. "I don't think so," he said, cranking his arm back before he forcefully threw it at the dresser. The glass smashed into a million pieces, shattering any chance of communicating with anyone to help me. Before I could react, Anthony had a hand around my throat. "Grab her fucking hands!" He yelled to Trevor.

Kicking and fighting as hard as I could, I managed to break his grip for a split second before Anthony brought a fist down directly to my face. It stunned me for a second, but that's all they needed to rip my shirt off. "Get the fuck off me, I'll fuckin-" Trevor put his hand over my mouth. "Goddamn you're loud. Be fucking quiet."

Anthony struggled with my jeans, but two fully grown men was too much for me to fight against. He finally managed to rip the fabric from my body. I shook my head, "No!" I screamed before Trevor shoved his hand over my mouth again. My eyes burned with tears, the entire scene before me blurred from anger and fear. I kicked and fought for what felt like hours. Every time I managed to seemingly get free, Anthony would punch me directly in the face or the ribs, anything to get me to stop squirming or trying to escape them. They took turns, I felt absolutely humiliated and defeated and by the end, I just let them do what they pleased. I wanted it to be over.

I never should have come here. That man should have killed me Halloween night, it would have been less traumatic than this. My nose was bleeding, my ribs felt like they were on fire. My face was sore, but so much that it just felt numb. I drifted in and out through the bullshit, trying to hold on to consciousness.

Anthony buried his hand in my hair, yanking me from the bed and throwing me to the floor. "You've always been useless. Nothing more than a hole to fuck," he grinned, buckling his pants. "Get your shit and get out. I don't want you here." I gasped for a breath to reply, the force of hitting the floor knocking the air from my lungs. Loud knocking on the door was the last thing I heard before everything went dark.

🎀

•~•~•~•

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The smell of a strong lemon cleaner invaded my senses, but I loved the fresh smell of cleaning products. I cracked my eyes open, bright sunlight filtered through the blinds and illuminated the entire room. Light blue and white sheets covered my body, an IV in my hand connected to a bag beside the bed. What the hell happened?

"Hello?" I spoke out, no reply. I waited about thirty minutes and no one came into the room. Trying to stand was hard, my legs didn't want to function and my ribs stung with sharp pains. I decided to play it safe and just sit back down before someone had to come peel me off the floor. The beeping of a heart monitor was the only noise in the otherwise quiet room. I laid there for a while trying to remember what the hell happened to bring me here.

Waking up in a hospital wasn't as scary as most movies made it seem, the scary part was how I had no recollection of what happened. I knew my name, (Y/n). My age, (your age). I knew my date of birth, my social security number, my childhood home's landline number. Yet I couldn't for the life of me remember anything specific like.. did I have friends? Where did I live? Where.. was I really? It's a paralyzing fear.

I didn't even notice the nurse that walked in until she started freaking out. "A doctor! I need a doctor!" She yelled from the doorway.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.

My heart started racing, was everything okay? Was something wrong with me? I stared down my body, all limbs attached and no blood. What the hell was she freaking out about?

A tall but stocky man rushed around the corner of the door, his eyes wide with shock. "Ma'am, don't move."

I started freaking out myself at that point because I'd already tried to stand. He came closer, pulling a flashlight from a small pocket on his crisp white coat. Shining it into my eyes he asked, "Do you know your name?"

I answered that question as well as a few others with ease until he finally asked if I knew what day it was. I shook my head, looking around as if I'd find some sort of indication. There was a small white board with dates and names on it, but I couldn't see it clear enough to read it from that distance.

"I'm not sure," I said, looking back up to the doctor. He tucked the flashlight back into his coat and looked at me sympathetically. "3 of your ribs were completely broken when you were brought to us. Your lung collapsed and you also had a severe concussion and slipped into a coma for almost two months. You suffered severe.. bleeding, along with apparent memory loss."

"When will my memory come back?" I asked, that was what was most important to me. He sucked his lips in, forming a thin line and glanced at the ground before looking back at me. "Honestly ma'am, we weren't sure you were going to wake up. It's still unclear if your muscle function is up to par with letting you leave, so we're going to keep you here for a while."

He excused himself to grab some paperwork, asking the nurse to follow, and left me with my thoughts. I didn't want to stay, but I wasn't sure where I was supposed to go if I left. I was angry at myself because I couldn't remember. I wanted to know who put me here and got me in this situation.

I sighed, resting my head on the pillow. It felt like forever had passed before the doctor returned. We went through some paperwork and I would start my muscle assessment in a few days. They felt it would be too stressful on my body after coming out of the coma and finding out all of this information, giving it a few days to sink it would probably be the best for me and I agreed completely. I hoped that from here on forward, it was nothing but good news.