Mia Hall was a normal girl until a car crash almost took her life. Even though she stayed, her mother, father, and brother are still gone. She has gotten into Julliard. Her boyfriend is about to go on tour with his band. Everything about her life is going to change. Can she handle it? Or is it all just too much to bare?
This is my version of what happened directly after she woke up. It may contradict with Where She Went by Gayle Forman. I haven't decided yet. I hope you like it.
Chapter 1: Awaken
I feel Adam's grip tighten, so that the grasp of his hand feels like it is holding my entire body. Like it could lift me up right out of this bed. And then I hear the sharp intake of his voice. It's the first time today I can truly hear him.
"Mia?" he asks. I squeeze his hand gently as my eyelids flutter in the newly found artificial light above me. "Mia!" he says, looking at me with a longing gaze and holding my cool cheek in his warm hand. I moan. "Oh-h, it's okay. I'm here," he says, pressing his hot soft lips against my forehead. "I'm here."
I moan again as the intense pain brought on by my injuries finally hits. I clench my teeth and try to take deep breaths, but I feel like my body is suddenly lit on fire.
"Are you okay?" he asks, worried as he notices my stiffened grip on his hand. "I-I'll get the nurse," he says, kissing my knuckles and running up to the front desk of the ICU.
I just lay here for what seems like hours as the flames surge through my body, searing my skin, before three nurses shows up. They jog in and rush to check my vitals, one of them shining a blinding flashlight in each eye.
"Breathing is stable, but speeding up," another says.
"Temperature is rising," the third one says, loudly as she sticks the thermometer in my mouth and puts her cool hand on my forehead.
Adam paces around the doorway of my room, nervously running his hands through his hair and mumbling something to himself. The nurses run around the room like balls in a pinball machine in-between taking turns poking and prodding at my body. The pain is so severe that I have to squint my eyes every so often just to keep myself from screaming.
"I need coolers and a bag of saline!" the third yells, at no one in particular, and a random nurse passing by the door of my room bolts into the hallway. She comes back with two bags of saline and a large complicated looking cooling pack and passes them to the nurses hovering over me. One of the nurses change my IV and another pulls the curtain shut before ripping my hospital gown open and placing the cooling pack on my bare heating chest. I cringe at the cool, but eventually settle into it. My heart rate steadies and it feels as though my entire body cools down. The nurses' eyes do not leave the monitors the entire time.
"Heart rate is going down," the first one says, taking a deep breath as the second comes in holding another cooling pack. She hands it to the first and takes the original pack back out of the room.
When the new pack hits my skin it feels warmer than the first, but it still continues to cool me like the first one. The pain slowly starts to go away and strangely I feel almost tired, like being in a coma was not enough rest. Everything starts to get hazy as my eyes begin to shut until finally they are almost closed. That is when I feel a tingling in my hand that wasn't there before. Someone kisses my forehead and I can hear them sit down in the chair beside me.
"Hey, I'm here," he says, fixing his grip on my hand. Together, me and him, feels like the most natural thing in the world. "I hope your feeling better."
I smile slightly and my eyes beat shut despite my efforts to keep them open.
"That's okay," he says, petting my cheek. "Get some rest. I'll be here when you get up." He scoots his chair a little bit closer and places his right foot on his left knee before leaning back in his chair, his grip of my hand not moving. Slowly my eyes close shut in a perfect silence only heard by our ears.
They moved me out of the ICU only a few days ago, but I feel significantly better already. I still do not feel ready to deal with everything that I have lost in the crash, but I think everyone understands that. It is kind of an unspoken rule that I do not want to talk about what happened. We all know I can not exactly handle it yet. When I woke up they told me again what happened, in less detail than when they thought I was not listening. Even after having all my coma time to think about it I still cried, except this time everyone could hear me. There are some times when I do not think it will ever get better.
People visit me almost constantly, which I guess is good. It keeps my mind off of things. Adam has barely left my side since I woke up, only leaving to play gigs, now that he knows I am okay. We spend the day just talking hanging out, like normal. It is nice to have something normal. He got permission from Willow to bring in food from outside the hospital, which is way better than the slop they serve here. He went twenty minutes out of the way to grab us some from one of my favorite places, the greasy take out place across the street from my old cello teacher's apartment.
My long dark brown hair hangs on the shoulders of my green and grey long sleeve shirt as I sit criss crossed on my hospital bed picking at a take out box of Chinese food with a pair of chopsticks. All different wires and things twist up my arm, half of which I do not even know the use for. My chipping purple nails attempt to pick up the chicken and broccoli with the small wooden sticks, but fail miserably. Adam sits on the other end of the bed, his knees exposed through the worn out holes of his washed out jeans, doing the same except he can actually pick up the food with the foreign contraption.
"How can you possibly do this?" I ask, attempting to pick up a piece of chicken with the sticks, but it flicks onto my shirt and just about misses my baggy grey sweats from the local college. "Ugh."
"It's not that hard. You just have to pinch the two sticks together so they tighten towards the chicken," he says, popping another piece in his mouth.
I try again abut fail miserably. It bounces all the way to the floor and leaves a sticky brown smudge on the previously clean laminate tiles. "Ugh! Can you help me?" I pout.
"Sure," he says, poking into his own container. His sticks come out with a perfect piece of chicken. He brings it up to my mouth with a smile. "Here."
I smile back and take a bite. "Much better."
"Your so cute," he laughs.
"Well thank you," I say, kissing him. It only lasts a second, but it is absolutely perfect.
He pulls away, oddly conflicted, and pauses for a moment. He slowly pulls a folded piece of paper from the back pocket of his beat up jeans. His face gets even more confused as his glance traces along the faded white fold. Something is not good.
"I know you said that you didn't want to talk about anything that happened while you were in the coma—"
"Nope."
"But, I think you need to hear this," he tries to continue, but I stop him again.
"No," I say, almost angry. "I told you that I don't want to talk about it, Adam—"
"You got into Julliard," he says, quickly, and everything in the room goes silent. I do not look at him. I can feel his eyes bobbing back onto me ever so often, to see my response, but I do not give him one, which, I guess, is a response in itself.
I am in shock. My mind suddenly feels all mashed up and discombobulated.
I can not believe that I got in. Everything else around me goes into a blur. The audition was already a bit much to swallow. I did not think I was going to get in. I wonder if everyone else already knows. Kim probably does. She always seems to know more than me, no matter the subject. I cannot wait to tell mom—I stop there, too sad to even continue my thoughts. This is why I did not want anything brought up. This is why I told him no.
"You should go," he continues, shyly.
I look at him, bewildered by his response. I shake my head. "No. No. What are you talking about? I can't go."
"Yes you can, Mia. You have to. You've been given this amazing opportunity," he insists.
"I don't care! I don't want it!" I yell, almost in tears. "You can't make me."
"Your right. I can't. But I still think you should," he says, quietly, almost in a whisper, as he tries to calm me down.
"Why? So I can lose you too?" I ask as tears start to drip down my cheeks.
"Mia, I'm not going to lose you," he says grabbing my hand. "I love you."
"And I love you too, but sometimes that isn't enough." I pause. "That's why I'm here, right? Because love couldn't save all of them in the crash," I say, getting more upset. A monitor in the corner starts to go off and Adam tries to calm me down, but it doesn't work. "Love wasn't enough! Don't you see that?" The more I talk the shorter my breaths lasts and although I keep going. Adam seems worried. I try to wipe the tears away with my palms, but they just won't stop. More lights and things start beeping the longer I go on. "That's why they're all gone," I hiccup in an attempt to get more air. "Because I couldn't save them." I lay rocking myself back and forth in the bed as Adam rubs my back, but it isn't helping. A couple of nurses rush into the room and start screaming things at each other.
"Heart rate is rising," one of them yells, coming at me.
"She's having a hard time breathing," the other yells back.
Adam steps back, out of their way, in shock until he is almost flat against the cement wall. His eyes appear hollow as his hands nervously sift through his hair. My forehead is burning hot and my palms are sweaty. My breathing is scattered and it can barely keep up with what I need. A nurse places a mask over my face and I feel a bit better, but still not good. Three other nurses run in with serious looks and starts attending to me as well. Things start getting darker and darker, like the world is shading around the edges. The walls turn to black sparkles like a starry night and even though my eyes are open I can not see a thing. I can literally feel my heartbeat beat slower. It almost steadies into a march step, but then decides to trudge along even slower. I am struggling for air, gasping for breath, searching for oxygen, panting for relief. I can almost feel my blood turn to sludge as I take my last breath and hear a beautiful ringing in the machines in unison.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
Deadpan. Blank.
First off I would like to say that I do not own If I Stay or any of the characters within the stories by Gayle Forman.
Well, I hope you all liked it! Please review! I love my fans and I would love to know what you think (don't worry about being harsh, I love constructive criticism). I am always trying to improve my writing in any way possible so PLEASE REVIEW!
Also, I tend to reuse some of my minor characters in other fan fictions so you can have more of a back-story or feel of the character that you don't necessarily get from just one of them, so if you want to find out more just check them out.
If you like this story then I suggest you check out my fan fiction(s): An Imperial Affliction or Flightless Birds.
I love my fans so spread the word and never give up what you love. Fan fiction for life! :) -amazinglilli