So Much More

Chapter 8: Wren

I hesitate at the door. Charlie's being kept in the intensive care unit, and only two people are allowed in to visit at one time. Anne and David go in first to see him, and I hear both of them start to cry shortly after they entered as I hover outside the doorway. They only stay for a few minutes, keeping the visit short as advised by Dr. Wilson, before they walk out of the room and David tells me that I can go in. I want to say I'm not ready to go in, that I can't see Charlie like this, but I force myself to be brave and walk into the dark room. If they can do it then I should be able to.

I'm relieved to be in here alone so they can't see how uncomfortable I am. I don't know what to do with myself, feeling lost and awkward in my own skin. I approach his bed, a loud gasp escaping me when I see Charlie's face and I bring my hands up to cover my mouth. I'm horrified at how unrecognisable he is. His face is purple and bruised, his eyes barely visible from all the swelling around them. It's nothing like the Charlie I know at all. This morning when I arrived and his parents told me that he'd been attacked, I couldn't comprehend the words.

I thought that maybe he had an argument with one of his friends, or they he'd got a little roughed up resulting in a black eye. Seeing him like this, lying in a hospital bed, I know that this wasn't just some small scuffle. Whoever did this knew how to hurt somebody. My insides burn with anger as I pick up his hand, and a few runaway tears escape my eyes when I notice that it too is covered with bruises. I think back to all the details Anne told me, trying to make sense of the situation.

When Charlie was found early in the morning, his money, cards and phone were missing, so the police have said it was most likely a robbery gone bad. It was dark, after midnight, and he was alone, so how can anyone know for sure that's what happened though? How do they know it wasn't done just to inflict pain on someone? The uncertainty of it all makes it even worse, knowing that the people who did this are still out there somewhere, Charlie's possessions burning a hole in their pocket. All I know for sure is that someone beat Charlie and left him on the street, bleeding and unconscious.

After spending the next few hours sitting in the waiting room to see if there's any changes, Charlie's parents finally convince me to go home. I argue with them at first, insisting on staying in case anything happened, but I'm so exhausted that I feel like I might collapse at any minute, and concede after they promise to call me with updates. My head is hurting worse than it was this morning, and my throat feels dry and scratchy.

By the time I get home, all I want to do is crawl into my bed and sleep, but I know that even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to. There's too much going on in my mind, and I don't know how to silence it. I'm in no mood to talk to or explain to anyone what's happened this morning, but I know that I can't pretend it hasn't happened. The sooner that I tell people, the sooner that it's over and I focus on being there for Charlie.

The phone call to my parents is the hardest. As expected, they insist on coming to stay with me, my mum already half packed by the time I finish explaining my morning to them. It then turns to them telling me that I should move back home, resulting in a lot of back and forth. After convincing them that all I will be doing tonight is catching up on my sleep and agreeing they can come over first thing tomorrow, I finally manage to get them off the phone. The truth is that I really just want to be alone. I can't fathom answering anymore questions when I have so many of my own. After I've changed into my pyjamas, I sit on the couch, resting my head against the fabric.

There's a light knock on my door and I rush to answer it, thinking that it may be the police with more information or here to ask me some questions. When I open the door I find Mary, blue robe and all, standing there with a bottle of wine. She gives me a sympathetic look, and after a moment I move to the side, letting her in. She walks over and grabs two wine glasses from the cabinet before speaking.