A/N: If you're actually reading this, you are a saint. Once again, tips, critique, and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are appreciated. Also, once again, I do not own any bands, movies, television shows, books, ect. referenced to in this story.
"Well, ma'am your daughter was very lucky, if she hadn't landed on that backpack with her gym clothes in it, the injury would have been much worse," you heard a soothing female voice say.
"Can we see her?" your mother's voice sobs.
"Yes, she still has not regained consiousness, but many people find it soothing to talk to their loved ones, even when you think they can't hear you."
"Thank you doctor," your father says, his voice stable, but you can hear the worry behind it.
You begin to relize, if you can hear them, maybe you can see them, and your eyes flutter open. You mentally slap yourself upside the head for not thinking of that, and then you think of your favorite show, NCIS, and start lauging.
Upon hearing you laugh your mother promptly rushes over to you and wraps her arms around you so tight you feel like a mouse, being crushed by a boa constrictor. "Honey we were so worried,"
"Uhh, oww," you grunt upon impact.
"Oh, sorry sweetie," your mom apologizes, and backs off, "the doctor says you have a m-"
"Moderate concussion and a Subdural hematoma," you stated matter-of-factly, your parents just stared at you in disbelief, "I heard the doctor talking to you guys."
"Do you even know what that means Angel girl?" your father says slightly baffled.
"Concussion? Dad, I've had like three of th-"
"No, the hematoma," he interrupted you mid-sentence.
"Yeah, a hematoma that occurs between the dura mater and arachnoid in the subdural space and that may apply neurologically significant pressure to the cerebral cortex," you rattled off like it was the alphabet.
"Wh-"
"Bones," you sighed, annoyed that they thought you so naive, "TV 's more informative than you think guys, and assuming I've got my logic right, they've relieved the pressure and I can get out of here soon."
"Oh," they said in unison.
"If you could hear us why didn't you say anything?" your mother whined.
"I was tired, I didn't want to be bothered," you grumbled.
"I don't blame you," your father said as he rose from his chair, to come over and hug you, and you finally cracked a smile, you love your dad's hugs, they make you feel so safe.
"Ms. Elena, you have a visitor," a nurse called through the doorway.
"Dallyyyy!!!! They won't let me in!!"
"Come on in Ponyboy," you called upon hearing the nickname you guys gave each other in 8th grade.
"Dude! What happened?!" Kira inquired the second she saw you.
"Oh, I just thought it would be fun to try and fly down the stairs," you remarked with impressive sarcasm.
"Forgot to tie your shoes again?" she more stated than inquired.
"Well with you outside playing a medly of holiday hits I don't see how I could have forgotten," you quipped.
"It wasn't me who overslept," she giggled.
"Hey! You cut your hair again!, it's adoreable!!" you squealed upon noticing her light brown, black, blue, and purple hair was a full five inches shorter than it was the day before.
"Yeah! Thanks! It feels really weird," she laughed.
Your mom and dad began to walk out, "We're going to get some coffe, you guys want some?" your father asked.
"YESS!" you both cried in unison.
"Okay, we'll be back in a little while,"
"Okay," you replied, turning back to Kira, "so, how long have I been here?"
"Long enough to build up the Everest of make-up work," she sighed.
"Nooo," you groaned as you fell back on the not-so-fluffy hospital pillows.
"I'm afraid to inform you, but it's true. So when are you getting out of here?" she asked.
"I think tomorrow," you said as you thought back to the conversations you had overheard while pretending to be unconscious, "I think they said that they had relived the pressure, but they wanted to keep me here one more night to keep an eye on me."
"Okay, then I can tell everyone to be at your place...when tomorrow?" she asks.
"I'm not sure when, ask mom and dad,"
"Mmkayz," she said flopping down in the chair beside your bed.
"Hey, Elena," said your favorite nurse Jess, walking in carrying your phone, "someone was calling you, figured you'd wanna call 'em back."
"Cool, thanks. How'd you know it was my phone?" you asked curiously.
"We had your stuff sitting at the nurses station, we were going to give it back to you later today," she said tossing it to you.
"Kewel," you said as you caught it.
"Besides," Jess continued, "it's not too often a pair of pants tell you they jizzed in themselves." She laughed.
"Ahh, well then I know it was someone from school," you said smiling. You opened your phone to see that your friend Devon had called you a few times while you had been here.
"Who was it?" Kira questioned curiously.
"Let's see, Devon, Devon, Devon, Kristin, Devon, Devon, Lisa, Devon, Devon, Devon, Devon, Devon, Devon, Mom, Mom, you…wow, I must be loved," you joked.
"I keep telling you, Devon is friggin' in love with you!!" she whines.
"and I keep telling you, your insane!" you whine, mocking her frustration, "we've known each other forever, he would've told me by now."
"Fine, whaaaatever," she sighs stealing the remote from you, and turning on Hannah Montana just to bug you.
"Really?" you groan staring up at the ceiling.
"Yeah, I'm just eeeeeevil like that," she beamed at you.
"Change it before I puke all over you," you demanded pretending you were going to throw up.
"Aaaalright alright," she laughed turning on The Saddle Club.
"I keel joo!!! Keel joo 'till your dead!!...That's worse!!" you quoted Jeff Dunham.
"Well, it doesn't really matter Elena, because the doctor has taken pity on you and is sending you home today. You just have to stay in bed for a few days don't run around too much. Can you handle that okay?" said Jess as she was unhooking you from all 5000 machines you were hooked up to, "I put your clothes in the bathroom."
"Thanks Jess," you say, finally breathing a sigh of relief. You were getting out of there.
"I'll go find your parents and tell them 'kay?" Kira called as you walked into the bathroom.
"Alright, don't get lost, we all know how blonde you get," you teased her.
"Oh Elena you're a comedy genius," she said putting extra emphasis on genius.
"Why thank you, yes I know," you said sticking your hand out the bathroom door and giving her a princess wave.
"Okay, come on, get changed, I hate hospitals," she hurried you along.
"'Kay, yeah, me too, I hate that smell," you shudder. Turning back to the task of sorting through your pile of clothes, you realize it's not the outfit you wore when you got hurt. You just tell yourself that your parents brought you clean clothes, and shrug off the uneasiness you now felt. So you threw on your favorite Slipknot shirt, and are pulling up your favorite black skinny jeans when you hear your parents and Kira walk back into the room.
"Hey honey," your mother calls, knocking on the bathroom door with her knuckles, that way that for some reason, always made you smile. "we're all set, let us know when you're ready."
"Cool, I'll be out in a minute," you reply through the door as you zip up your favorite clunky knee high boots, you throw on your sweatshirt, and just as you turn to leave, something catches your eye. You turn back, and look in the sink, was the pocket knife your father got you for Christmas, because your old one was stolen. You picked it up, and ran your thumb over the smooth surface, it was cold, like no one had touched it for hours. You flipped it open, and your heart stopped cold.
