Forked Roads Back

18 - ARCHIE

I FEEL HORRENDOUS.

Absolutely horrendous.

My head feels like it's been hit by a truck and subsequently smashed hard into a brick wall. My stomach feels like it's been twisted until it's about ready to burst. Then my body feels like it's been run through a disintegrater and then spat back out the other side.

I feel utterly shit. And even if there was another adjective to describe how I feel, I'd still use the word 'shit.'

I lost track of how many glasses of whiskey I had in the end, but given how I felt... I'd say it was a lot. I also probably had a bit of explaining to do, as I don't think I came in here quietly last night.

Looking out the window, I can see it's at least daytime. But having no idea what time it is other than that, I reach over to the table next to me to grab my phone.

I groan when it falls off the table in bits.

"Oh yeah. Right."

That I did remember. I was angry, and it seems I took the brunt of my anger out on my poor phone. The rest I took out on my liver. And from the way I have a constant stream of nausea floating over me, I'd say my stomach is biting back.

I look down at what's left on my phone. It must still be connected to the battery, because the screen keeps flashing, but I can't see anything through the shattered screen. I bet quite a few of those flashes will be missed calls from Millie. My phone has got to have wracked up thousands of missed calls by now.

And as I remember why, through the fog, I launch what's left of my phone across the room and let out an almighty cry as I do so. Pain has shot up my arm, and as I look down and take in the contorted bones and blue-black bruising, I know for a fact my hand's broken.

"I thought I recognised that scream."

A familiar voice battles through the fog. Lara.

"I heard the nurses gossiping, saying you were back, so I had to see for myself whether it was true or not," she jokes.

With the combination of feeling sicker than a dog and my hand throbbing like the blazes, I'm really not in the mood for joking around right now.

"And here you are."

It was starting to become difficult to control the white hot anger building inside of me.

"And you look like complete shit, Archie."

With that comment, the anger dissipates and dissolves as I bark out a laugh. She definitely wasn't wrong.

"Hello to you too," I groan, my throat feeling groggy and raspy... and strangely fuzzy.

I wave her in with my good hand and attempt to sit up, only it makes me feel worse, so I slip back down to my original position and put my head gently back down on the pillow, wishing for unconsciousness again.

"Archie, you really do look awful."

I open my eyes and glare at her. "Way to help make me feel better. You know if you're just going to laugh, you can piss off back to your own room," I tell her, proud of myself reining in my deteriorating temper.

That only makes her laugh, and before I can stop her, she swats at the thing closest to her, which unfortunately for me, happens to be my bad arm.

I hiss and screw my eyes shut as I try and resist the urge to scream my guts out. "The hand! The hand..." I grimace through clenched teeth, and she cups her mouth.

"Oh my God. Archie, I didn't see it." Her eyes look panicked as she looks around but I shake my head.

"It's okay, it's okay. Just..." I gesture with my other hand to my other side, wanting to get her far away from my bad hand. "Just come this side. Please."