Tainted Me

Chapter 12: Breathe Me (past)

TRIGGER WARNING: Some scenes in this chapter may contain sensitive material. Alcohol abuse and self-harm are some topics mentioned. If you feel uneasy, please feel free to stop reading immediately.

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ONE YEAR AGO

Ah, this sucks.

My whole body fucking ached. When I opened my eyes, I realized I was in a hospital room. I was hooked up and all that shit. I looked down on my body to check if I was still in one piece.

Yep, everything was still there.

I frowned, trying to remember what happened. I was drunk and crossing the street... then a car hit me.

Fuck, I got hit by a goddamn car.

That sure explained my sore body. I didn't have any crutches, though. That meant the impact wasn't that strong. Did that mean I could still play? Shit, Coach Saxon was gonna murder the fuck outta me.

Just how long was I out, anyway?

I looked around the room. It was quiet. Nobody else was here. There were no flowers, which meant there were no visitors.

Closing my eyes, I let out a deep breath. The corner of my lips turned up in a leer. I was alone, as always. What the hell was I expecting?

"Typical," I murmured to myself.

Why didn't the car just fucking kill me off? I doubted it would even matter to anyone. It didn't even matter that I was alive, much less dead.

"What's typical?"

My eyes snapped open and they landed on a girl carrying a pizza box on one hand and a Starbucks cup on the other. She looked like she was swallowed by her white parka. She was standing by the doorway, staring at me.

"What're you doing here?" I asked, but my voice was raspy. I needed water. I looked around the room for one.

She sighed. "Nothing better to brighten my day than going to the hospital because it's such a cheery place."

Finally, I spotted the glass of water on the side table. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Arisa place the pizza box and coffee cup on the nearby table. She removed her parka before coming over to me. She reached for the glass from the bedside table and helped me drink.

When I was done, she placed it back to where it was and walked out of the room. This time when she came back, a nurse and a doctor accompanied her.

"Good afternoon, Mr. O'neal," the doctor said, stepping closer to me. "I'm Doctor Lim. How are you feeling?"

"Never better."

He helped me sit up. Then, he did that flashlight shit on me. I winced and whipped my head away. Not because it hurt, but more because it reminded me of those headlights before a car hit me.

I knew I'd get over it. But right now, the memory was still fresh.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding like he meant it as he put the small flashlight away. "Are you feeling any pains in your body?"

"Just a little sore." I frowned. "How long was I out?"

"Two days," he answered, as he took quick notes on my chart. When he was done, he looked up at me. "You should count yourself very lucky. The driver hit the brakes early enough to slow down and lessen the impact, but it still hit you hard enough to knock you out."