Darkness...beeping...voices...pain...light...?
As I slowly open my eyes, the first phrase I truly understand comes from my brother.
"She's awake!"
"Thank God!"
Someone's voice echoes through my foggy brain. Stan? No, he hasn't spoken to me since I chose Craig over him. He knew he was no good for me....Before I can truly match the voice to its owner, Ike throws himself on top of my broken body. "Kayla! I was so worried when you didn't home and then the police found you body in a ditch...!" A ditch? No doubt that it was Craig's doing. "At first I thought you were dead and then I feared you wouldn't live long enough for the ambulance to take you to the hospital. Then I..." His words fades as I consider why I can only see blurred splotches of color and why Ike's voice seems to come from a distant tunnel. And it all comes back to me....
FLASHBACK
I quietly shut the door behind me as I entered my boyfriend's apartment. Like always, it's the flithiest place I have ever had the displeasure of stepping inside of, but my earlier anger at Ike evaporated. "Craig? Are you home?"
A grunt came from a lump on the once white, now just brown and moldy couch as he turned to face me. "What took you so long? Why are you late?" His constant slur didn't affect my ears anymore. I was used to trying to decipher his words.
"I'm sorry Craig, but my brother was talking to me and I couldn't get away." His eyes rolled back to the television where women in short skirts kept parading across the screen and I instantly felt self-conscious about always throwing on ripped jeans before heading out.
"You're lying to me." Craig's growl snapped me out of my thoughts.
"What?" I was more shocked then hurt by the accusation.
"You're lying." He got up from the couch and began making his way toward me. "Your brother wasn't talking to you, Kayla. You're cheating on me. I should've known someone who looks like you could never be faithful to me." Actually, Craig was very attractive. When he was sober, his midnight hair was perfectly combed, he had blue eyes that had no comparison and had great wit and charm. However, I had to guess that he wasn't talking about when he was sober.
"Craig d-don't be rash." That's right Kayla, I told myself at the time, calm him down and be 't show him any fear.
And I didn't. Even when he picked me up and threw my barely trembling frame into the opposite wall. Even when the heat from the fire poker seared my flesh. I tried to reason with him as he borke my arm or puched me in the face, knocking my nose out of place. Even when he grabbed a baseball bat and hit my head, neck, and torso until he heard a plea for mercy. Even when he appeared not to notice as darkness overcame me. I refused to show him any terror or give him any satisfaction.
END FLASHBACK
"You have suffered sufficient damage to your brain." I wait for the doctor to go on, ready to get this over with and go home, but I don't hear anything.
"So...what does that mean exactly?"
I hear a faint sigh, as if he doesn't want to answer the question. Once again, I feel as though he is in a tunnel far from me when he responds. "You will never able to see anything other than vague shapes and colors. You cannot hear correctly anymore. We can give you temporary hearing aids, but with your brain injuries, your hearing will only gradually get worse. The scars left on your face when he burned you cannot be erased. I am truly sorry, but there is really nothing more I can do for you."
Tears flow freely down my face and I'm glad that Ike isn't here to see his sister's walls begin to finally break down.
Pat...pat...pat...
I'm sitting up and teardrops are falling onto my hand. Even though I have no real way of knowing, I'm pretty sure they're not mine. Sure enough Eric, my best friend, talks to me. I finally recognize it as the second voice I heard when I woke up.
"Kayla, I'm sorry this happened to you."
I can't see him-my already blurred vision that's marred with tears creating a barrier-but I can imagine his coffee-colored eyes misted with the same salty water mine are. Suddenly, I feel his impossibly strong arms wrap around me in a tight embrace. "I should've tried to get you out of that relationship. I should've called, or visited you, or..." I see this as slightly ironic considering Eric is my only friend from childhood who goes out of his way to keep in touch. "I swear Kayla, nothing like this will ever happen to you again."
Only after that sentence is uttered do I truly realize how often Eric has been there for me. When he, Stan, Kenny and I decided to see who could ride their bike the fastest, I wiped out pretty badly and broke my arm. Eric was the one to take me all the way to the hospital on his bike. When my "true love" broke my heart, Eric arrived with my favortie kind of ice cream and sappy romantic comedies we could critize. And I'll never forget my brushes with death because of Man-Bear-Pig or that terrible smug storm that Eric saved me from. But I digress.
"I'm so, so sorry. " His whisper, so close to my ear, breaks any thoughts I have of replying. He cuts off the hug when the door opens. The voice is the only one I never wanted to hear again.
"Kayla? Thank God I finally found you!"
I cower against Eric and his angry roar echoes through the small room.
"Why are you here, Tucker?"
"I'm trying to talk to my girlfriend," Craig supplies calmly. "Is that such a crime?" Abruptly, Eric's color-blur smahes into Craig's.
"Stop it!" I cry. I vaguely wonder where the doctor is all of this. Why isn't he stopping this? (Later, I found out that he was talking to an attractive new nurse that moved to Denver a few weeks ago, "congradulating" her on joining the hospital staff.) "Stop fighting!" But the crashes and bangs are heard above my feeble attempts to quiet their battle. "Please..."
It is obvious I have a choice to make. Will I choose Craig, the man who will never leave me alone, no matter where I hide? Or do I stay with Eric, someone I've known for years and who has never even thought of laying a hand on me? Instantly, my choice is made.
~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~
Journal,
It has been a couple years now and I can't say I exactly enjoy my new life. I convinced Craig to move-I can't say where in fear that Eric or Ike might find this. I told him I wanted to get away from Ike's glares and Eric's disbelieving looks, but really I needed to protect them from Craig's still burning wrath.
My two favorite people may still be wondering why I left-that is, given they think of me at all. Sometimes I wonder myself. Why did I leave them? Why didn't I stay? What might have happened had to chose to act on my feeling for Eric that I've had since middle school? Every day I torture myself with these questions and I still haven't found a decent answer. Maybe I left because I couldn't bear having to face Ike's lectures or Eric's friendship. Maybe I couldn't stay because I knew I would lead them into a never-ending chase between Craig and I. Perhaps Eric liked me back and we would've been married with three kids and a dog and lived the perfect life. Maybe my children would have had the unmatched wit and cunning that came so naturally to their father. Maybe I would have been surrounded by unwavering love that's filled with kind words and pleasant dreams.
The only certain thing I have to depend on every coffee-filled morning to the shadowy night is the blurred vision preventing me from driving away. The chirps that birds make or the fights lovers have over petty things slowly shrinking away from my ears. The bumpy, prickly burn scars covering my face, constant reminders of the danger I'm in. Together they tell me, "You idiot! You stupid fool! You had a beautiful family and loving friends and you threw it all away because you thought you could change him!"
And I cry for unrealized hopes, dreams, and love. I cry for the little girl I once knew that would not be in the mirror of I had the eyesight to look. I cry for Eric, the man I left standing alone in my empty hospital room, knowing that the look he gave would never leave my thoughts. But most of all, I cry for the things that changed so suddenly, because ultimately, those are the things that will never change.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
A/N: Any thoughts besides what a crappy job I did on this? By the way, there is a third part to the story, but I don't want to put it up and have no one read because they hated the first sequel. So...what do my readers (and most of all my reviewers) think I should do? Please respond.
~theflawintheplan