Blinding lights are shining on me. I can feel them burning through my eyelids. An incessant beeping next to me makes me want to claw my ears off. I try to open my eyes but my eyelashes feel like bags of rocks. None of my extremities are cooperating with my brain. I'm trying so hard to move but nothing happens.
Am I dead? Is that where the lights are coming from? Am I in heaven? I highly doubt that. After everything that I've done, my soul is a more suited guest for hell.
I can't believe that's how I died. After years of cutting and suicidal urges, my life ends by the hand of a stupid truck driver. Well, it could have been worse. I could have spent days with extreme physical pain before going on the other side.
I hear the soft swoosh of a door opening, then the tapping of someone's heels on the tile floors.
Huh! Maybe this is in fact hell. I hardly think that God would force his angels to wear uncomfortable high heels.
A warm hand touches my forehead, then my wrist. Everywhere she touches my icy skin holds on to the warmth even after the angel's hand is gone.
The door reopens and a strange voice says, "How is she?"
"Her vitals are strong. She should be able to wake up anytime now."
"She's a lucky one," continues the other voice as she approaches me. "I don't know many people who survive an accident like that without any life-threatening injuries."
Wait – survive? I'm alive? Seriously, I'm alive. I thought if anyone's life would be cut short, it would be mine. Apparently, I was wrong.
"Try telling her mother that. The woman was in hysteric. Four nurses had to hurl her off the girl so they could transport her into surgery. But the odd thing was that neither the father nor her husband tried to calm her down. They both stood, the father in tears but the step-dad, him, he gave me the chills. He had an expressionless face and a phone stuck to his ears as if he couldn't care less about what was happening."
"I'm sure he cares a whole lot. Some men are simply not accustomed to showing their emotions publicly."
I snort. Emotions! Like Steven has any of those.
"Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"The noise, it came from her."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I heard a noise coming from her." She places her warm hands on my skin once more, "Rachel! Rachel, can you hear us?"
I attempt to lift my eyelids but they're too heavy. I move on to my fingers. Still no responses.
"It was probably nothing. I don't think she's ready to wake up, yet. Her vitals might be good but her body still needs more time to completely recover from such a shock."
"I think you might be right." Then I hear their heels clicking away from me.
I assemble all of my energy to let one word slip between my chapped lips. "W-wa-ter," I croak.
My voice comes out as barely a whisper. I hope they heard me because I don't think I have much energy left to speak louder.
When I hear the door opening, I almost cried. I'm stuck in a hospital room by myself with my throat as dry as the Sahara desert.
"Rachel?" One of them says.
I heave a sigh of relief. They have heard me. Thank God, I won't have to waste away in this room with only the sound of a heart monitor.
I open my mouth slightly to ask for water again but someone's hands silence me.
"Don't speak, honey. You're going to get yourself tired again. Helen, can you go get her some water?"
"Yes, Dr. Shaw," answers the other one. I hear her feet shuffle out of the door.
"Rachel, can you open your eyes?" she asks.
I make another weak attempt to open my eyes but it seems like my body is still rebelling against my brain. Then, slowly a small amount of light emerges in my eyes. Little by little it grows, until I could see the entire ceiling and the face of a woman staring at me with concern.
At that moment, Helen returns with a glass of water. She holds my head up as I drink small sip of the refreshing drink. It tingles as it travels down my throat. My head drops back down as soon as Helen lets it go. It's as if I have no control on me whatsoever.
"How are you feeling, Rachel?" Dr. Shaw places a stethoscope over my heart. I jump at the coldness of the object on my skin. "Sorry, I seem to always forget how cold that thing is." She smiles at me. "Can you breathe for me?"
I inhale a breath of air and release it in a coughing fit. My lungs have the weight of a skyscraper trying to escape my ribs. I wince in pain.
"It's alright, don't exhaust yourself. Do you remember what happened?"
"I was driving," my voice is so deep that I'm startle for a second, thinking that someone else is saying my words for me. "I-I was driving then...I didn't see it in time...I didn't have time to..."
"Hey, hey, calm down," she soothes. "You're alright now. I have just one question before we leave you to rest and go announce the good news to your parents."
Helen and her exchange brief look of uncertainty. "What is it?" I ask trying to not freak out but the heart monitor betrays my act.
"Well, the accident did damage your body therefore you ended with a lot of bruises and broken bones but..." she takes a breath to rearrange her thoughts. "You have a lot of scars but not all of them were from the accident."
The monitor accelerate its rhythm once more. "I-I don't understand."
"I think you do perfectly," Helen says.
"Did someone hurt you, Rachel?" Dr. Shaw asks.
"No, of course not. I'm fine."
"Rachel, some of these bruises have gone through the first couple stages of the healing process which means they've been here for more than a few weeks. Some of them have been inflicted years ago."
"I'm sorry Dr. Shaw but you're mistaken. If you check my files, you'll realize that I've been in the emergency quite a few times. I'm a clumsy person, I fall on almost everything."
"Alright then. You can go to sleep now, we'll tell your parents so they can come to see you." They both leave with unconvinced looks on their faces.
Just great, everybody is prying in my life now. Why can't anybody get the message that I don't need their help? My life is awesome.
"What's up little one?" Darwin greets as he enters my room like he owns the place.
"What are you doing here?" I snap with every bit of bitterness my voice allows me to possess.
"You kind of scared us all," he ignores my tone.
I turn my face toward the closed window and decide to admire the drops of rain sliding on the glass. Rain is such a beautiful phenomenon. It's as if the sky is crying, it probably is with all the cruelty in the universe. But it's the sky's fault for caring so much. Someone should explain to it that the less you care the less tears you shed.
Darwin appears in my line of vision, "Have you been listening to a word I said?"
"I never listened to you when I was happy and healthy, what makes you think I'm going to start now?" I answer without looking at him.
"Healthy maybe but happy?" He grabs a chair and take a seat, "I don't think you were ever happy."
"Too bad I don't care what you think." I turn around to escape his stare.
"I think you do but you don't want to admit it."
"Leave me alone, Darwin."
"What? No more Uncle D," he jokes.
"I wonder what D stands for."
"Darwin, obviously."
"I have another more appropriate word in my mind right now," I admit with a sly smile.
"And ladies and gentlemen that is how a kid lose their innocence. But you've stopped being innocent a good while ago, haven't you?"
"You would know about that more than I do."
An ominous silence follows my comment. The beeping of the heart monitor is the only thing keeping me grounded. I want to turn to look at him, to have an idea of what he might be thinking but like always I'm too scared to think of anything else than to save my own self. I know if I turn I will put myself in more danger. I might break and cry. I can't let him see through me.
"I'm sorry," I hear him say.
"Get out," I snarl.
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"You have to let it go, Rachel, for your own sake."
"Are you sure about that? Are you sure it's not for your sake, Darwin?"
"I've apologized countless of times."
"You think a bunch of sorrys are going to make me feel better? You think they're going to make me forget everything?"
"I didn't say forget. You can't forget it, neither can I but you have to learn to forgive. Forgive me, forgive him, and especially forgive yourself."
"I can't do that," I shout. My lungs scream for me to calm down and the heart monitor has lost its serene tempo. My head throbs as I struggle to keep it up. "Why should I lessen your load while I suffer in silence? Why? If I forgive everybody, none of you would have anything else to worry about, no shame, no regrets, no nothing. What about me? I would still be suffering. So, hell to the no. I'm not giving anybody my forgiveness. If I'm suffering, you all have to suffer with me."
"You can't go around living like this, Rachel. People make mistakes."
"I don't care. It's an eye for an eye, a nightmare for a nightmare. Just deal with it like I do every single day."
He grabs my arm forcefully off the bed, "You call this dealing with it, Rachel?" All of my scars are on full display, the old ones and the new ones.
"It was a freaking car accident. Was I supposed to control that maniac behind the wheels too?"
"Dr. Shaw talked to you mother. The accident didn't give you all of these bruises and scars."
I snatch my arm away, "Get out."
"No," he answers stubbornly.
I try to grab the phone to throw at him but my body refuses to move closer to it so I settle for shaking the rails of the bed while screaming at the top of my lungs.
"Help, somebody help me. Help me." My throat is on fire but I keep going. I see Darwin backing away as two nurses and Dr. Shaw busts inside.
As soon as he's out the door, I quiet down. But now I feel the downside of my outburst. I crash down on the bed and pass out.