Chapter Two!
Disclaimer: I don't own.
A/N: this is AU ofc, and Fuji POV still XD it may change in later chapters. Not sure though....
I need to update more so I've been trying to write lots more chapters XD please forgive this one if it's bad. Concrit and Reviews are loved!
Also Thank you to ZukaFujiZone the renowned expert on all things Perfect (:
I would have cursed myself that morning as I awoke, bright light torturing my eyes as I blearily opened them. The soft beeping of a machine made itself known as voices talked in the background, using words I didn't quite understand. All of these thoughts were somewhere far in the back of my mind, my sole and only thought being the memory of what I last saw or rather, felt.
Automatically my hand flew up to my throat, panicking as I felt the rough bandages and soreness, feeling the tug on my arm as my sluggish movements and muscles caused my arm to land too heavily, ripping something out; it hurt, but I quickly realised that I couldn't voice that pain, no noise other than a strangled garble leaving my throat.
With startled eyes, though my lids were heavy, the whole world seemed to flash into one colour; I had no voice, and what ever it was I did have, tore across my larynx with the force of a rip cord, and words like pain and hurt could not even compare to this.
I coughed for a while, feeling tears prick the corners of my eyes in this horrible sense of something raking across my throat, and the noise of the door clicking open was muffled beyond my ears. People, no, doctors, were talking quickly and something was pressed to my mouth in my effort to breathe, unable to do so through this fit. The lack of oxygen that had been burning my lungs was slowly drifting away along with my panic and vaguely I started to respond to the doctor calling my name and asking me silly questions I was obviously unable to answer.
Something scratched my arm by the place I had pulled that thing out from earlier; I guess it was a drip of some kind. I wasn't too sure about anything; my vision was blurred, my senses numbed and I couldn't even ask them either… I couldn't say a word.
The panic I knew I could feel somewhere in the back of my mind was being held down strongly by what was being pumped into me. It was making me calm, stopping the pain I felt. Looking around I could see a man in a white coat waiting patiently as I calmed, he moved to take the mask off of my mouth and turned towards the nurse saying words I didn't understand.
He stood to my right by the door and I blinked tiredly, looking at him for answers. I wondered when he would start explaining. I just….I didn't….
The world spun…something tore through my with the force of a wild fire and suddenly everything turned black. The music that had been resounding through my body, through the microphone as I sang died at once; I couldn't hear…couldn't see... I gasped, a flash of a memory flickering through my mind, I don't think I even felt it when I fell on the stage... the bruise along my arm, that I can feel on my side, tells me I must have done that... I just don't remember so well.
What happened?
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The doctor left me after he was sure I was settled, after checking his folder he spent no longer near me.
He had placed a small object in my hand and told me to press the button if I needed someone. Then he had left, without explanation or words to lessen my confusion.
I wanted to sigh in frustration, to scream and yell because I didn't understand, because I was scared. But it still hurt...
Yes the drugs were helping....but the pain was still there, dully working its way through my body. Why wouldn't they tell me anything?
I wasn't sure whether I should be relieved or not now that the world no longer spun and that my vision had stopped spinning, because somehow... I hadn't been this aware, I hadn't realised what was really wrong with me. I had been fueled by panic and.... Well, truth be told, I still felt panicked, uncertain.... I felt everything but the morphine was keeping all of them pressed down. Somehow I wished they were. I wanted them to surface to maybe cause to feel better than feeling so detatched, so loose.
Frowning, I clenched my fists and slammed my free hand down on the mattress, this was ridiculous. I could feel it for crying out loud, I could feel the bandage, feel the stitches underneath the fabric, I could feel air passing through my throat and no noise coming out! Did they think I wouldn't notice, did they think I'd be too tired, too dazed to understand.
I hit the bed again, whacking my fist on the metal bar several times. I didn't care that it hurt, I couldn't speak could I? I couldn't yell in anger could I? If I hurt my hand what would it matter, I lost the one thing that was important to me, I lost my voice and that means I've lost my life... ha... I no longer have a life. How pathetic.
Just like this room, I have a feeling my life would be empty from now on... If I can't sing, what use am I?
