by Candy Crum
The doctor’s hand had become quite sweaty from anxiety, and he managed to slip right through my grip, running for the door. Jen jumped in front of the door as I jumped out of bed, the IV ripping out of my arm once again. I grabbed him and slammed him chest first against the wall. It was a little rougher than I’d meant for it to be.
Oops.
I flipped him around so he could face me. He was so much larger than me, but I was easily able to hold him.
He smelled good. A little too good. My breathing picked up as I buried my face in his chest and inhaled. I couldn’t seem to stop myself. He just smelled so damn delicious! The world around me seemed to spin. My mind was going in a dozen different directions, and I couldn’t keep my thoughts straight.
“What are you doing?” he asked, voice shaky.
I looked up then, his eyes widening for a moment as he peered into mine. Confidence radiated through me as I stared at him, and I found myself pressing my body against his. What was that? It was so strange, but I loved it. Somehow, in the midst of all the chaos, I felt – power. Like I could do anything in the world that I wanted.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked.
Where the hell did that come from? I wondered.
“Anything,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. His heart had begun to slow, and he was completely calm. “I’m yours.”
Bingo.
There it was. The control that I so desperately sought. I still had no idea what triggered it. I’d only wanted to smell him a little. It didn’t happen at all like the first time, but I wasn’t about to question it.
“Actually,” I said. “I need you to do a few things for me.”
He nodded. “Anything.”
“I need you to write up release papers. I want the hell out of here and I need it to look like I’m recovered. I need to be able to go back to my old life. Can you do that for me?” I asked.
It was going to be difficult to explain how I got shot, died during surgery, if they’d charted that, miraculously came back to life, and then left the hospital all in one day, but frankly, I didn’t give a damn. Things seemed to be working out great so far. Well, with only minor setbacks. Just winging it seemed to be working just fine. Consequences later. Not the best plan, but if it got me out of there then that was good enough for me.
He nodded again. “Anything.”
“Good boy,” I said. “You’re not going to say anything about any of this are you?”
“No! I would never,” he said, a genuine smile forming on his lips. “I would never disappoint you.”
Just like the med students before him, I trusted his word. I truly believed that none of them would ever say a word about whatever the situation was.
“Glad to hear it,” I said. “Now go and get me out of here, Doc.” I turned to Jen and Catherine. “Girls. Please go with our friend here and make sure he doesn’t say a word to anyone.”
The girls smiled and followed Doctor Connors out of the room. Since the little theatrics were pointless, I grabbed the suture removal kit that I’d hidden in the little bedside table. Jen brought it for once the doc had looked me over, though we’d hoped for a much better turnout.
I began removing all of the stitches as I thought about how big of an idiot I’d already been. How did I expect any of that to go well? I sighed at myself. It was only day one, and I was already making a lot of mistakes. Still, things had worked out okay for the moment. I just had to get out of the hospital.
It wasn’t long before the trio returned. Doctor Connors was all smiles as he walked in.
“I signed you out AMA,” he said.
“AMA?” I asked. “What’s that?”
“Against medical advice,” he said. “I put in there that your family is taking you to an undisclosed facility to seek your own medical care instead of what was provided for you.”
“Oh,” I said. “Very nice.”
Really, it was a job well done. That sounds like something that could happen. It got me out of there and, since there wasn’t another facility listed by name, they couldn’t harass “my family” for more information on anything in the future. Not that they would have anyway.
“Good job,” I said. “So, am I ready to go?”
“All ready,” he replied. His eyes stared into mine. “You’re a miracle. Don’t let this slide by. You’re alive for a reason. Take this life and make it mean something. Not everyone can heal like you can. Be a superhero or something awesome like that.” He laughed at his last sentence, but I could tell he meant every word.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I brought you these,” Catherine said as she threw some scrubs down on the bed next to me. “It’s not much, but you won’t have to leave naked or in a gown.”
“Thanks,” I said again.
I looked at each of them. All three sets of eyes on me. Watching me. Waiting for me to say something. I had total control of all of them, but I still had no idea how. I needed to make them forget about me.
“Listen guys,” I said. All three of them listened intently for whatever I’d say next. I spoke as I dressed, absolutely no shame to stop me. “You have all been wonderful and I appreciate everything that you’ve done for me, but I can’t leave here knowing that you guys know… whatever this is. I need all of you to forget everything about me except the back story that we made up. Jen and Catherine, you walked in the room where I was and found me struggling. You both saved my life and brought me into recovery. Doctor Connors, you checked me over and approved me to leave in family care, as long as I promised to seek medical advice elsewhere. That’s all I want you guys to remember.”
Confusion crossed Jen’s face. “But – that’s exactly what did happen. Are you feeling alright?”
Holy shit that worked fast.
I smiled. “Yes! I’m fine. I must just be a little tired. I’m going to get some rest when I get out of here.”
“Just take it easy,” Doctor Connors said. “You don’t want to tear open your stitches.”
I smiled. “No, I really don’t. Thank you for your help.”
With that they smiled and left. A few moments later, Jen came back with a wheelchair. Appearances and all. I hopped in and Jen pushed me to the front exit.
“You said your family is here to get you?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yes. They will be here any moment. You can leave me here if you’d like,” I replied.
“I don’t mind staying,” she said. “If you passed out and hurt yourself it would be all my fault. Especially if the worst happened.”
The truth was that I had no one coming. Not that I knew of. The only person that even knew that I was at the hospital was Will and, apparently, he was dead in a ditch somewhere, or he needed to be because if he wasn’t there after getting my ass shot and killed then he deserved it.
That was mean.
I shouldn’t have said that. I was just incredibly angry.
… but still.
I opened my mouth to protest again, but the sound of squealing tires through the parking lot pulled my attention. Turning, I saw Will’s car pulling up to the curb. He slammed it in park and jumped out so quickly that he almost fell.
“Mia!” he shouted, worry all over his face. “Mia, I’m so sorry.”
“You know him?” Jen asked.
I thought for a moment. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to blow my cover of being half-dead and throat punch him, tell her I didn’t know him, or go with him. I had no ride otherwise.
I sighed. “Yes. I do.”
It was decided. The biggest reason being that I had a few things that I wanted to say.
“Mia,” Will said, regret and what I imagined was shock furrowing his brows and widening his eyes. “Mia, how…”
“I’m good here. Thank you, Jen,” I said.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “I can help you to the car.”
Though my wounds were healed, I was still very sore. Standing and making a good show of being in pain wasn’t t
oo much of a stretch.
“I’m fine,” I said, my eyes never leaving Will’s. “Thank you again for all of your help.”
Jen took the wheelchair and as soon as I heard the doors slide open and then closed, I spoke.
“How am I alive you mean?” I asked, voice cold and angry.
He nodded. “I’m so happy that you are. God, I was so scared. I would have gotten here sooner, but the cops were everywhere.”
When my mind came around, I was already on the table. I didn’t remember anything after getting shot and before I woke up. An ambulance had to bring me to the hospital, or so I’d assumed. So, where the hell had he been?
“Hmm. How am I alive? Well, that is a rather hilarious story. One I fully plan to regale you with, but right now, I want to sit down. I’m a little sore. I’m sure you understand.”
“Absolutely!” he said.
He came to my side, assuming that I couldn’t walk. I let him. He’d figure it out soon enough. It didn’t take long for him to help me into the passenger side seat. I grumbled as I sat down and again as I pulled the seatbelt across. It felt as though I’d been kicked in the chest. However, I was grateful that was all I’d felt considering only a couple of hours before my chest was cracked open and I had my hand on my actual heart.
Will sat down, the car bouncing entirely too much as he got in.
“Where to?” he asked.
“How about paintballing?” I asked. “I feel like getting shot a few dozen more times.”
The look I gave him must have been pretty good because his eyes widened a bit before he turned forward and began driving. The longer that I sat next to him, his scent permeating my senses, and with every breath after comfortable breath he took, I began to feel more and more rage. My brows were furrowed, my nostrils locked in a flared position. Though I was staring at the road, I’m sure that if looks could kill, I’d have murdered quite a few.
“Mia.”
“I swear… If you say my name like that one more time I’m going to rip your head off,” I said.
The irritation was evident in my voice, but he had to know it was fully justified. Some small portion of me felt guilty for being angry at him, but why? Not only did he drag me into a place that I specifically told him I was uncomfortable in, a drug house no less! Then I was KILLED! So, hell no I shouldn’t feel bad.
But part of me still did…
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Aaand there it went. The guilt just fluttered away.
Here we go…
“You’re sorry?” I asked. “You’re sorry?”
“Yes! I had absolutely no idea anything bad would happen. You have no idea what I went through when I saw you get shot. It was hell,” he replied.
I stared at him then, my left brow raising in disbelief at what he said.
“You went through hell? Ha! I have a funny – no – HILARIOUS story to tell you. Would you like to hear?”
There was a huge smile on my face and my eyes were wide. I knew without a doubt that I looked like a psycho. I didn’t care.
Will nodded, the movement slow and cautious. “Say whatever you have to.”
“Oh, well good. I’m so glad that you gave me permission. So, I want you to just walk through these events with me because I’m confused as all hell and I have no one to talk to.”
“Okay,” he said, voice shaking a little. I saw a tear roll down his cheek, but I didn’t care at that moment.
“I woke up during my surgery.”
“What?” he asked sharply, his eyes darting over to me. “There was a surgery? With you standing and walking, I assumed the bullet went all the way through!”
“Oh, that’s what you took from that? No. No, it did not. It was embedded in my heart, you asshole.”
“Then that would mean that you had to have open heart surgery,” he said.
“Ding-ding-ding!” I said. “Bingo! ‘Well, Mia, how did surgery go?’ Oh, Will. I’m so happy you asked! Such a sweetie!”
He seemed almost frightened at that point. Good.
“As I said before you interrupted me – I woke up during surgery. I couldn’t move. I was strapped down. I couldn’t open my eyes. All I could do was lie there, hearing voices and wondering where the hell I was. The only thing I could do was listen to them talk about me. 13:17.”
“13:17?” he asked. “What’s that?”
“My time of death.”
“Y-your…” his voice trailed off. “I don’t understand.”
“Death, Will. My time of death. What’s not to understand? I died. 13:17. That is a time that I will absolutely never forget. I was awake. Well, mentally I was awake. I could hear them talking and I heard him pronounce me dead. Then I heard him say something about me having the wrong friends. I couldn’t possibly understand what he’d meant. I had the best of friends! None of them could possibly hurt me or put me in a situation where I may be hurt. How dare he say something like that. Right, Will?”
He didn’t say a word as more tears rolled down his cheeks.
“It wasn’t until they left the room to go get the supplies they needed to clean me up and send me to the fucking morgue that I realized that they were talking about me.”
A few moments passed as he sobbed a few times. Actual sobs. He was having trouble keeping his eyes clear.
Dear God, I thought. I’m going to die again, but in a car wreck.
At that point, I really didn’t care. There was a point that I had to make. I needed him to know exactly what I’d been through.
“I-I don’t understand,” he said through the tears. “How are you alive? How are you with me if they pronounced you dead? It’s a miracle.”
“Funny. The surgeon used the same words.” I sighed. “Truthfully, I have yet to figure that out. All I know is that I woke up on the table after they’d left. My mind was the only thing awake at first. My body was entirely numb from the anesthesia. When they left, I felt the worst pain I’d ever felt, until that moment that is. I need to stress that because it got so much worse.”
“Worse?” he asked.
I nodded, staring forward. It seemed as though a fog moved its way across my vision. I was looking at the road ahead of me without actually seeing anything. The only thing that I could see was the memory as I spoke.
“My chest felt like it was exploding and the pain in the rest of my body unbelievable. Then – it stopped.” I paused, thinking back to that moment when everything went black. The pain was unlike anything I’d ever felt. “My eyes shot open and I was aware of everything then. It was hard, but I freed myself of the restraints. Looking back on it now, even though it seemed hard at the time, I don’t think any normal person could have pulled free of those. When I tried to sit up, the pain was far worse than it had been earlier. I reached up to touch my chest and instead of skin, my fingers brushed across my heart. My actual heart. I was split wide open on a surgical table and left for dead.”
We’d just gotten outside of town, and Will pulled the car over with a screeching halt. His door flew open, and he threw up. Once. Twice. For a moment, I thought he’d go for a third, but he managed to hold it back. He wiped his mouth and sat back in his seat, shutting his door.
“You okay over there?” I asked.
He looked over at me, his brows furrowed. Anger distorted his features then.
“Why the fuck would you tell me something so awful? It’s a fucking blatant lie and thinking of you going through that still made me sick! It’s impossible! You couldn’t have survived that! I’ve been worried sick as hell about you. I’ve made a mistake that can’t be undone. I’ve made many that I really don’t give a shit about because they were mine and I needed to clean up my own mess. But once you were involved? God, damn it, Mia. You mean the world to me. I was terrified. When I saw you hit the floor, I thought you were fucking dead. I haven’t been tortured nearly enough for what happened to you. I deserve way worse. If you want to scream at me, beat me, hell, KILL me, I don’t care! But don’
t dare sit there and lie to me just to make me feel bad. I feel terrible. Tell me the truth. That will make me feel like the biggest piece of shit alive. Don’t lie.”
Mixed emotions filled me. That part of me that felt bad about being so angry at him was still in the background. It told me to comfort him and tell him that I was sorry, but the larger part of me that was still pissed that the situation that he thought was too horrible to have possibly happened, actually happened, was raging. The mix of the two kept me calm, though I was seconds from freaking out.
“I’m not lying. Believe me. I wish that I was,” I said.
“Mia,” he said. “Tell me the truth. I need to know what happened. The bullet had to go all the way through. There’s no other possibility. You’ve never been a liar. Don’t start now.”
Lies…
Liar…
Will called me a liar… That was the same best friend that told me that he’d been busting his ass for all the good things that had been coming his way. He’d always been a very straight forward guy and one that worked hard for everything he had. There was absolutely no reason for me to expect otherwise. He dragged me into a drug den and ultimately got me killed. And he was calling me a liar?
My chest burned as anger raced through me. My emotions were completely out of control. In that moment, without a care or shame in the world, I ripped off the scrub top that Jen had given me. I had no bra on. I was bare for the world to see. I whipped around in my seat, pulling my full breasts apart.
“I’m not a fucking liar! Do you see a scar? Do you see a fucking hole where a bullet should have gone? Do you see stitches? There’s NOTHING! There isn’t a fucking trace of anything. You saw me get shot. You had to have seen the blood.”
His eyes were wide, his breathing uneven as his gaze switched from my chest to my eyes. When his eyes met mine, they widened as he flattened himself against his door.
“Y-your eyes.”
I moved the rearview mirror and looked. There they were. The glowing redness that I’d seen before. Had it been the rage? I wasn’t sure, but along with the smooth chest, they were evidence of everything I’d said.
