10.
Six days in the hospital.
Pain medication.
Stitches.
Casts.
You're only awake briefly before darkness takes over once more.
News of the driver being released from custody makes the rounds into the hospital.
It was an accident, his car had faulty breaks when he crashed into the coffee shop.
Fists clench, nostrils flare. Anger...so much anger.
He lives as you lay here broken.
I make it out into the world to go to your best friend's funeral.
I drive passed your favorite café.
Windows are boarded up.
Flowers and memorials litter the facade.
Tears and sobs escape me.
I won't make it without you.
If you're not here, I have nothing.
More?