Hitchhiker

by Stacy Borel

  A loud guttural sob tore from my throat. I violently wiped at my eyes, trying to clear them enough to see the road. The snow was coming down at a rapid pace, making it even harder to see. I knew I was going faster than necessary, but I couldn’t help it. Every little inch that I drove further away from him, I was cracking a little more. I knew that I was never going to be the same again. I belonged to him; there was no denying that. But he didn’t want me. I’d been in several relationships where the other person did everything they could to keep me. Dawson didn’t even try. In fact, I wasn’t even sure he knew how to, but that was moot at this point. I couldn’t go back, and I didn’t want to. I’d never get the results I craved. He’d never open that door and have his arms ready to catch me. That was enough to push me forward and keep driving.

  I was still making my way down the winding hill when the back end of my vehicle started slipping. I fishtailed but corrected it with the wheel before I spun. Trying to dry my eyes, I needed to collect myself before I got into a wreck. I could almost hear my dad right now, yelling at me for driving so upset. Well sorry, Dad, I didn’t have much choice. I rounded a corner and slowed down. Dawson was still in my house, and I wondered what he was doing. Did he think ‘good, I finally got her off my back’ or maybe ‘Chandler was crazier than I thought’ and he’s relieved I left? A new wave of tears pushed past my eyes. Fuck, I couldn’t see the road again.

  Reaching into my center console, I took out some napkins and clenched them in my hands. For a brief moment, I had glanced down to put back some of the things I’d pushed out of the way, and close it. That was all it took. When my eyes went back to the road, I had no time to react. A deer came out of nowhere, and I did my best to swerve. My foot slammed on the brakes, and I skidded on a patch of ice. Instead of my vehicle curving around, it continued to head straight. I knew the moment I went over the edge of the hill that the only way I’d be stopping was if I hit a tree or made it to the bottom. Both would likely kill me. I screamed, as the front end of the Rover tipped forward and made its first roll. I hit hard. My hands were still gripping the steering wheel but the first impact ripped them off. My head flew forward and hit something, but I wasn’t sure what. All I could hear was the crunching of metal and shattering of glass. I had no clue how many times I rolled, but it happened very quickly. I came to an abrupt halt and I was hanging upside down, still strapped in my seatbelt.

  “Ehhhh.” I groaned.

  A crushing sensation was in my chest, and I couldn’t move my legs. Opening my eyes, I couldn’t see anything really. There was snow in the vehicle, but I didn’t feel cold. It was pitch black outside, and only one headlight was still shining in front of the car. I was finding it difficult to breathe and my arm felt broken. I tried to scream, but all that came out was a gurgled moan. Oh my God, I was going to die here. Nobody knew where I was, and unless they followed the tire tracks, I’d never be found.

  Closing my eyes, I tried to conserve my energy, but I was just too tired. I wanted to go to sleep. Warm liquid was seeping over my forehead, and I wasn’t sure if it was tears or blood. Didn’t matter. I didn’t even have the energy to feel scared. Exhaling, my chest struggled to expand with oxygen. I attempted to open my eyes again, but I couldn’t even tell if they were or not. I could see nothing. I felt blinded. It was funny how in your last moments on this Earth, you think about the things that you never really focused on as a big deal, but now they meant everything.

  I thought about Dawson’s smile. How beautiful his face was when he’d let me see it light up. I remembered him sweetly holding my hand in the car, even for a few moments, and his fingers would stroke my skin. I remembered the sparkle in his brown eyes as he would get playful and feisty. And how he would look at me like he could see my soul. Sadness wasn’t overtaking me anymore. I wasn’t thinking about the fight we’d just had. Or the times he’d made me feel like I was crazy.

  I simply. Remembered. Him.

  And then my world went black.

  “I LOVE YOU,” he whispered in my ear. “I love you, okay?”

  “Mmm,” I moaned. Or was it a groan?

  “Jesus Christ, why did you leave? This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t left.” I heard something tearing but hadn’t the slightest clue what it was.

  Why are you yelling at me?

  “I swear to God, Chandler, don’t you fucking leave me. I’m here. I came for you goddammit.”

  I was being held tightly; so tightly that I couldn’t breathe.

  Dawson. Did I say his name out loud or was I just thinking it?

  “Fuck!” he growled. My body jerked, and then blinding pain seared through me. I screamed. “That’s it, stay with me. I know it hurts but keeping holding on. Focus on that pain. Pain means you’re alive.”

  Well, of course, I’m alive. What in the hell are you talking about?

  “I’ve got to get you to the top of the hill. It’s going to hurt but just hold on.”

  That blinding pain turned into one that sucked all the oxygen from my system. I’d never felt anything like this. Not a single inch of me felt like it wasn’t being decimated by pain.

  Stop, Dawson, whatever you’re doing, stop! Why wasn’t he hearing me?

  “Almost there, love.” He was breathing hard.

  I couldn’t see anything and I was disoriented. I could tell he was holding me, but why? Some of the pain I’d been feeling had subsided and it was being replaced with the cold. Teeth chattering cold, and yet, not even my mouth would move.

  “Over here!” Dawson yelled.

  My whole body felt heavy. Like a bag of bricks was holding down each one of my limbs. My eyelids refused to open no matter how much I willed them to. I heard someone moving around me, but they weren’t speaking. Papers shifted, but I lay there completely helpless and confused. Where was I? The last thing I could remember was Dawson and I at the cabin. Beeping on a nearby machine picked up in speed. What was that? Trying my best to calm down, I sucked in a breath through my nose and blew it back out. Ouch! That hurt.

  Dawson and I had been talking. No, I take that back. I was yelling at him. He was shut down. He said he wouldn’t chase me, and I left. Oh my God, I left the cabin. Where in the hell was I? I listened even harder trying to establish if I could recognize anything that seemed familiar. The smells were stale and slightly like light chemicals floating in the air.

  A noise off to my left caught my attention. A clicking sound then someone spoke.

  “She waking up? The monitor was showing increased heart rhythm.” The voice was a female and she was speaking to whoever else was in here with me.

  “Not sure. I was charting when it picked up, but it may have been a dream. She’s still sleeping though.”

  The hell I was. I was very much awake. Why couldn’t I move? I attempted to make some sound. A small moan came from my chest.

  “Doctor Blythe, I think the sedative may be wearing off.”

  Doctor? Was I in a hospital?

  Something touched my wrist, and I felt something cool touching my ribs. “Chandler, can you hear me? Chandler, can you try and open your eyes?”

  What in the hell, buddy, don’t you think I would have by now if I could?

  I tried prying them open again. “Miss Owen, if you can say something or maybe squeeze my fingers to let me know you’re awake, that would be great.”

  I focused all of my energy on trying to grip the fingers that slid into my hand. My pinky and ring finger moved, but not with any force.

  “Good girl. I know you can hear me. Miss Owen, you were in a car accident. We’ve been keeping you sedated because you hit your head pretty hard and we needed to make sure any swelling had a chance to go down. I’ll tell you more when you are more alert. Please, get some rest for now, and I’ll be back in a bit to check on you.”

  I heard the doctor speaking to the other person in the room, and then a door closed. Where was he going? Just because I wasn’t moving didn’t mean I wasn’t alert. Okay, maybe not that ale
rt. I felt like I could sleep for a week, but I needed to know what was going on. A car accident? I tried to think back even harder in my foggy memory. How did I get here? I remember the arguing before I left the cabin, and after that, there was nothing. If my eyes could produce tears right now, I’d be crying out of sheer frustration. Feeling all energy pulled from me, I did my best to do what the doctor asked of me. Maybe if I sleep some more, I would wake up and be able to move, and possibly speak. I needed to know where Dawson was. I needed answers.

  I had no concept of how much time had passed by. I slept off and on, and still nobody came back into my room. At one point, I was finally able to lift my lids just high enough to catch a glimpse of the room I was in before they’d shut again. When was I going to be able to keep them open? Another length of time passed, when I was finally able to open my eyes and keep them open for longer than a couple of seconds at a time. Well, my right eye at least. For whatever reason, my left one wouldn’t lift as high as the other.

  My room door swung open and a tall bald man came in holding a sheet of paper, and he was wearing blue scrubs. Glasses sat low on his nose and he gave me a smile when he saw that I was awake.

  “Hello Chandler, I’m Doctor Blythe. I was in here earlier when you started stirring, do you remember that?”

  I had yet to try to speak. I nodded.

  “Good.” He looked at the paper. “Do you know where you are?”

  I opened my mouth, and my lips were cracked and dry. “Hospital.” It came out breathy and quiet.

  “Well, yes, you are at a hospital, but we have been keeping you in our psychiatric ward for observation. Miss Owen, can you remember what happened the night of the wreck?”

  I am in the psychiatric ward? What am I in here for? Where are Dawson, my parents, Seth, or Sydney? Has anybody even told them where I am?

  The heart monitor was picking up on my distress and the doctor came over and placed an oxygen mask over my nose. “Take a couple deep breathes. Let’s try not to get upset. We are just trying to get a better understanding of some things.”

  Even though it was muffled, and I wasn’t sure he could hear me over the air coming out, I asked, “Where am I?”

  “You’re at the Maine Medical Center, in Portland.”

  My eyes drooped. Maine? “How did I get here?”

  “Your fiancé, Mr…” He looked back at his sheet. “Seth Rogan had you transferred here from Billings Clinic in Montana. Apparently, you’d been there for two days before all the paperwork came through. He said Maine was your home of record.”

  I understood what he was saying, but why was I here? And I still didn’t understand where everyone was.

  “Is he here?” I asked.

  “Mr. Rogan? No. He has only been in once to make sure you had everything you needed and gave us his contact information in case anything changed. I’ll give him a call when I’m done in here and let him know you’re awake.”

  I pulled the mask away from my face. “My dad?”

  “He hasn’t been here, that I’m aware.”

  A small drop of wetness went down my cheek. My dad hadn’t even come to see me.

  “Chandler. It’s okay that I call you Chandler, isn’t it?” I nodded. “Here’s the issue.” He looked like he was about to hit me with something that I wouldn’t like. “When you were brought into the hospital in Montana, you were in really bad shape. You had a severe head wound, a lacerated spleen, three cracked ribs, and a punctured lung. They did everything they could there. You’ve had surgery to repair the spleen, and they sedated you to observe for any possible head trauma or brain swelling. When they felt you were stable enough, they flew you over here, and you’ve been under my care ever since.”

  Holy crap! I hadn’t realized any of this had happened. Yes, my body was hurting, but I couldn’t exactly feel the extent of the pain, probably due to the drugs. Still, nothing was making sense.

  “Where’s my cell phone? I need to call my dad.”

  His features became more stern. “Unfortunately, I can’t let you do that. Now that you’re awake, you’re under a forty-eight-hour observation. After that time, if I deem you fit, you may have your belongings back.”

  “What do you mean I’m under observation?”

  “Chandler, what do you remember about the night of the wreck?”

  I laid there, going back in my memory trying to grasp at anything that would make any of this make sense. Dawson and I had been fighting. He made me upset and I left. But what happened after that? God my dream… was that actually real? Had he come after me?

  “How did I get to the hospital in Montana?”

  His glasses slid a little further down his nose as he read, “It says in the chart that a phone call was made to 911 by a Mr. Michael. You were then taken by ambulance to a hospital in Bozeman, and they had to airlift you to Billings.”

  Dawson, he had followed me. The tip of my nose tingled as I tried to hold back the dam of tears that were threatening to break loose. “Mr. Michael… did he uh, happen to come with me here?”

  The doctor appeared confused. “No, you were alone.”

  Any and all hope dropped. Where was he? Why did he chase me? He saved me, he must know that I’m okay, or at least be checking in on me.

  “Chandler, there are some other things we need to discuss. This observation, we will be bringing in a couple different professionals that will ask you questions about your family history, any problems with depression, suicidal thoughts, or if this was the first time you’ve attempted to kill yourself.”

  Whoa! Now that got my attention. “Excuse me?” I glanced around for a glass of water. My dry mouth couldn’t be tolerated any longer.

  “It’s believed that you may have purposefully wrecked your car and drove it over a mountainside. Now, we’ve been made aware that you’ve had some issues recently, and you left home. Is this correct?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t try and kill myself.”

  “Well, according to your fiancé, he believes that you might be mentally unstable and had you admitted. Due to the nature of what happened, we have to take his request seriously.”

  What in the hell? Seth did this? “Okay, I understand that, but I didn’t try to kill myself.”

  “Can you tell me how it is that you wrecked your vehicle?”

  “I can’t remember. But I know that I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “Do you suffer from depression, Chandler?”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I would resort to something so extreme.” I was getting worked up.

  He had taken a pen from his pocket and written down a few things. “Do you know what kind of medication you’re currently on for your depression?”

  I glared at him. “I’m not taking anything for it.”

  He noted it, as if that solidified that I must be lying. “Is there any reason you haven’t been to the doctor to be put on an antidepressant?”

  I leaned my head back against the raised bed. “Because I thought it was something that I could fix on my own. I just needed time and space to clear my head.”

  He looked at me over the top of his glasses. “And did you think that leaving the state would solve it?”

  I knew he didn’t mean it in a derogatory way, but I took it that way. I was livid that Seth put me here. He took me away from where I really wanted to be without my permission. I was even more pissed that my dad didn’t try to argue this with him, especially after the few phone calls I’d had with him over how I was feeling toward Seth. Made me wonder what was said between the two of them to make them believe this was all done on purpose, and why they thought this was the best option for me.

  “I’d hoped it would,” I responded quietly. “Listen, the man who called 911, do you know where he is? Did he leave any information, like where he might be, or how to contact him?”

  Sorting through some papers, he shook his head. “No, unfortunately, he left no contact info.”

  I turned my head as much as my body would
allow without severe pain and looked out the single window. It was raining outside, and the sky looked nearly black. My heart plummeted into my stomach. I had no way to contact Dawson. I knew he was likely gone from my house, especially after everything that had happened. And in all the time we’d spent together, I never got his number. How crazy was that? Why didn’t I ever just write it down?

  “I’m tired. Can you come back later?” I refused to look at him.

  “Yes, I certainly can. If you’re in any pain, push your nurse’s button, and someone will come in and get you something.”

  I was done speaking. As soon as he left, I looked around my little ‘cell.’ That’s what it was, right? I was essentially a prisoner? I didn’t even know if I was allowed to go out in the hall without being mauled by some security guard thinking I was about to kill myself or someone else. Okay, maybe that was a little extreme, but still. How could Seth do this to me? Better yet, why would he do this? What sort of crazy thoughts did he have to make him believe that I would have gone off the road on purpose? If he didn’t show up here while I was here, especially after the doctor calls him to give him an update, I was going to hunt his ass down and throw his ring in his face. The engagement was off anyway. I’d never forgive him for this.

  And Dawson, how could he come after me and not stay with me? Why was I in this mess alone and nobody was even here? Why was I always alone? Was this how I was meant to spend my life? One great love, a few memories to last me a lifetime, and live out my days with nobody by my side? I refused to believe that. Maybe Dawson wasn’t the one for me. He even said it himself. Although I don’t believe him as far as I can throw him. What he felt for me was very, very real. I knew that I scared him. It just made me sadder knowing that he allowed his fear to dictate choosing me over casual hook-ups and women who would never give a damn about him like I did. Maybe I needed to take some time apart from him as well, just so I could gain some perspective. We’d been inseparable for the last month and a half. That much time together was bound to cloud my judgment.