I make the cop repeat himself at least six times before my conscience allowed me to believe that my father had been in a car crash; A serious one at that.
"Well where the hell is he?" I ask the cop, getting angry as he didn't seem to want to answer any of my questions fully tonight.
"The hospital has him in ICU. He is in critical condition and nobody is allowed into the room until he is stable." He tells me. Its sounds like he's reading this right out of a fucking book.
"Fuck that! I don't care what you say! If I want to see my own fucking father, and I will. Luke, Drive me." I say, turning to him who had been beside me the entire time.
"Riley, he just said that you can't see him, they won't let you inside the room." He tells me, giving me a sympathetic look. I don't need his sympathy, let alone want it. My father is fine. He has to be.
"Drive me." I demand, not having much patience left in me before I break with all the emotions that are built up inside me. Luke takes the sternness in my voice as a confirmation that I didn't give a fuck if I can't be in the room. I'm going to see my father, whether they let me or not.
I rush through the cold, hospital doors and straight up to the front desk, Luke having trouble following behind me quick enough. I grip the blanket around me tightly "Harper." I tell the lady and she slowly checks her computer. Could she go any fucking slower? "It would be amazing if I could see my father before I die of old age." I snap at the stupid fake blonde. I swear I could see the bitch roll her eyes behind the screen. If this was any other day, I would have made sure she never did that again, but clearly it wasn't. My father is dying in one of these hundreds of rooms. I have to see him. I have to know if this is real.
"I'm sorry miss, he's in ICU and cannot be allowed visitors, immediate family or not." She says, looking up at me and snapping her gum between her teeth.
"You know what you little-" I say losing my temper but I feel two strong hands pull me slightly back by the shoulders.
"Okay Riley, no need to go to jail for this..." Luke says, trying to calm me down but nothing is going to work. I need to see him. "Let's just sit on the waiting room, and wait until you can go inside..." Luke suggests and god, that is the worst thing he has ever suggested. I am not going to just wait. He could be dying for Christ's sake!
"Fuck this." I say, pushing past him and walking down all the halls until I read the 'ICU Hall' sign. Luke doesn't bother to chase me down the long hospital hallways. Good choice on his part, since I am not going to listen to anybody. I quickly walk past every door, looking at the little signs that reveal which patient is in the room. I stop at room 217, my eyes catch onto the first 3 letters of my last name and without reading the rest I barge into the room, what my vision came into focus on was all the confirmation I needed.
This was real.
My father really is laying in this hospital bed; Unconscious with thick bandage wrapped around his entire head. I take a step closer; feeling if I took one more this entire situation would seem even more real than it already was. His face is covered in blood, cuts and gashes. "What happened?" I say to myself as a barely audible whisper is released.
I swallow the enormous knot in my throat that formed since the police officer told me what had happened.
"Hey! What are you doing in here!? You can't be in here!" I hear a deep male voice say behind me, rushing into the room with a clipboard in hand along with a pale yellow folder.
"He- He's my father." I stumble on my words. 'Pull yourself together Riley,' I tell myself as I feel tears prickle at my eyes.
"Miss, you have to leave." The doctor loosens his deep tone a bit, sounding more sympathetic. Why is everyone giving me their sympathy? I don't need it, nor do I want it.
I don't say a word. I just stand in the cold room, looking down at my father's bloody and broken body, ignoring the tall man in the white suit who thinks he knows everything but really, all he knows is what's printed on the stupid clipboard. My father is strong. He will get through this. It was just a car accident, it happens to a lot of people. He will wake up, get out the hospital, and heal slowly, but surely like everybody else.
He glances at his clipboard for a quick second than looks at me before sighing. "Ms.Harper..."
"Riley." I say through my teeth. My name is Riley. If one more person fucking calls me Ms. Harper again I will start breaking shit.
"Riley," He corrects. "Your father he, he's in a coma due the severe impact to his head as a result of the crash..." He says and I stand still, staring at the doctor who speaks like he is reading off of a paper just like the cop from earlier. I narrow my eyes slightly, trying to comprehend his rehearsed words.
'A coma.' The voice in my head reminds me. 'He's going to leave you,' it reminds me. 'He's going to leave you all alone,' it says again, mocking me.
"Is he going to die?" I blurt out, my mouth working before my mind can keep up.
The doctor looks down before taking a deep breath and letting it out. "The impact your father has had to his head is pretty severe. It gave him a pretty serious concussion, leading to swelling in his brain. That swelling had nowhere to go, so that led to his coma..." The doctor explains. "We don't know exactly how long he will be under it." He finishes.
"You don't know how long it will take him to wake up?" I ask, rubbing my forehead to try and ease the headache that was now forming. The doctor pauses, as If hesitating to answer my question. "I'm 17." I remind him. "I can handle it, believe me..." I say. I don't think anything he says can make my life worse than it already is.
"We don't know how long it will take until he's gone. Really gone." The doctor clarifies, giving another sympathetic look on his face after he speaks.
"What, so your saying that he'll never wake up?!" I say frantically. My mind is racing with a million thoughts. No. People wake up from comas all the time. Right? This guy doesn't know what he's talking about. I mean, what kind of doctor would just tell you that your father is going to die and they are not going to try and do anything?
"Well you're going to help him wake up, right?" I ask the doctor, more of a command than a suggestion or question.
He shakes his head slightly. "There is nothing we can do Ms. Har-... Riley. There are people who are put under comas with swelling much less severe than your fathers, and they don't wake up for years." He tells me. "Your father isn't going to wake up." He adds. "I'm sorry to put it that way so harshly but this is reality sweetheart. I'm not going to lie, I can't. Now I'm going to have to ask you to leave or I will not hesitate to call security and have you escorted out." He finishes and my hatred for this man whose name I don't even know, only grows.
I hear footsteps approach the floor behind me. I look back to see two big security guards behind me with their arms crossed in attempt to intimidate me. Their attempts clearly failed as they both looked like they ate a little too much doughnuts in their lifetime.
I look back over to the doctor who had is arms folded as well. I scoff and shake my head. "Thank you for trying your absolute best to make sure my father can get back in good health." I tell him, my voice purely sarcastic. I turn around and push past the two guards who probably couldn't run two feet before getting tired and stopping. This is not over with. They can't just give up on my father before they even start. He's not going to die. He can't. If he does... I will lose it.
Luke drives me home in silence, the radio off and the heat on. I was glad for this. I pull out a cigarette, lighting it and inhaling a deep drag of smoke opening the window slightly for Luke's sake. I don't want to talk to anybody. I just want to sit in silence. I want to go home and sleep this all off. Hopefully I will wake up and be relieved that this was all just a dream. But I've come to learn that you can't dream up 17 years of your life no matter how much of a nightmare it may feel like. I don't know how much longer I can keep pretending everything is alright.. like everything is fine.
Well it's not.
And I sure as hell know it. I'm tired of hating my life. I'm tired of the pain in my heart that won't seem to go away, no matter how hard I try. I'm just tired of trying so hard. I'm done trying. I'm done pretending. I don't want to hold all my broken pieces together anymore. If one more thing tried to chip away at me, it's only a matter of time before all of the pieces come falling to the ground again. And I won't have the strength to pick them up when that day comes.
(Song of this chap: Save Rock And Roll- Fall Out Boy c: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter :))