Chapter 28 – Like a Victim
It's night time when I finally wake up properly. My room is only dimly illuminated from the lighting in the hall, and the sounds from the nurses' station sound dim and far away. I can't ignore my need to go to the bathroom and so, slowly and agonisingly, I struggle to stand up from the bed and make it the few feet to the bathroom.
I don't look at the mirror. Not that it matters- the image of myself that I saw earlier has burned itself into my brain and I know I'll never forget it. I keep my head averted and let my hair fall across my face, even though it smells unpleasantly like a mix of unfamiliar cheap shampoo and hospital bed linen.
I don't hear him come in. I open the bathroom door, expecting the room to be as empty as it was when I left it, but it's not. Instead there's a person, tall and broad shouldered, standing at the end of my bed with my chart in his hands, and as he hears the noise of the bathroom door he turns to face me.
The panic hits hard, closing out everything but this sudden perceived threat. I'm swamped by feelings of terror, and the adrenaline flooding my system masks the pain in my ribs enough that I can gasp in a big enough breath to scream.
"Whoa Rosalie, I'm Samuel…"
"No!" I scream again, but fear is tightening around my chest like iron bands, and then I can't scream and I can't breathe either. The iv pole clashes into the wall as I stumble backwards, distorted flashes of last night in the park flickering in my head.
Pain oh my head no oh my god don't please don't that hurts why stop it stop it no no no
The lights flip on and the room is bright, but I'm beyond controlling myself. There are other voices and other people, but their touch feels like blows and I curl into myself on the cold bathroom floor, struggling to breathe in great sobbing gasps.
"Rosie, Rosie, come on look at me…"
There's a voice I know. Jasper. Jasper will help me, he won't let them hurt me he'll make it stop…
"It's okay, it's okay, Rose…"
I open my eyes, struggling to focus with eyes blurred by tears, my heart feeling like it's beating out of my chest. But I can see enough that I see Jasper, crouched beside me in clean jeans and t-shirt, his hair damp and his blue eyes wide.
"I…can't…he…" I want to tell him what happened, but I can't get the words out. Looking up I see several people behind Jasper, including the man that I saw at the end of my bed. But as my terror recedes I see that he's wearing the same polo shirt with the hospital logo embroidered on the chest and has the same id tags as the morning nurses. He's a nurse. "I didn't…I…."
"It's okay," Jasper says again. "You're okay. You need to get back into bed, that's all."
"Rosalie?" It's the male nurse, crouching down beside Jasper. "I'm so sorry about this…I'm Samuel, your nurse tonight. I'm so sorry I frightened you."
His smile is kind, but I close my eyes in defeated humiliation. This is just one indignity on top of another, and for a moment I wish that Royce had finished the job and killed me in the park.
"Rosie, we have to get you back to bed," Jasper says quietly. "There's some blood on your top and they think you might have ripped some of your stitches."
"Can I help you get up, Rosalie?" Samuel asks. "I don't have to, if you'd rather someone else, but if it's okay I'll help you back to bed."
I nod, struggling to rise and realising that I'm not going to be able to get up off the floor without help. I don't care if he touches me, he's a nurse doing his job, and I don't flinch as he gently and respectfully helps support my weight as I struggle to stand up and shuffle back to bed.
There is blood on my tank top, seeping through from underneath, and when I'm back in bed and have been given a drink of water and some more painkillers Samuel asks if he can look at it. I can't stop the tears that are running down my cheeks, but I grip the hem of my top and raise it high enough to reveal the bloodstained dressing on my upper belly, just below my ribs.
"You've popped a couple of stitches," Samuel says. "It's not too bad- if I get some tape I can fix it up." He hesitates. "Is that okay? Look, I am really sorry about what happened…I don't normally work with uh….patients like you, they usually try and keep the nurses female, but they're really short staffed. If you'd rather one of the girls do the fix up job…"
"It doesn't matter," I say dully. "I'm sorry I freaked out. It wasn't you, it was just…" Just what? Just that the sight of you in my room triggered something and I was back in the park?
Samuel leaves the room and Jasper comes closer from where he's been leaning against the window sill. He looks tired and strained.
"Where were you?" I don't mean to sound accusing, but it comes out sounding desperate.
Jasper swallows. "I went home for a little while. Dad was here with some dinner and you were sound asleep, so I went home with him. I thought I'd have a shower and bring you back some more stuff." He indicates the stuffed backpack over by the wall. "I'm sorry. I would have told you but I didn't want to wake you. I didn't mean…god Rose, I'm sorry." There's a pulse beat jumping in his throat.
"It doesn't matter," I whisper tiredly. "You don't have to stay."
Jasper shakes his head. "I'll stay as long as you need me."
Samuel comes back and I once again lift my shirt up over my bruised and bloated belly so he can go to work with his antiseptic wash and tape and bandages. "This is where they took out your spleen," he says conversationally. "You've only popped a couple of stitches, I think the tape will hold it fine while I heals, but I guess the doctor can take a look at it tomorrow." He works quickly, talking in an effort to distract me, but in reality it's not that bad. The painkillers are kicking in, and his gloved hands feel safely impersonal.
At the same time as it reassures me, I find it unusual and almost unnerving that he doesn't see me as a girl. I'm a person, a patient, a collection of injuries and incisions and medical problems to him…but I'm not the beautiful girl that everyone else has always seen. The bruising and swelling overshadow anything about me that was ever pretty, and all I can think about as I look down at the purple and black and blue that colours my bare belly is that I look like a victim.
Another nurse comes in with a small carton of milk, a tub of yoghurt and two little plastic containers of Jello and icecream. She pulls the table over the bed and puts the food down with a smile. "Your dad said you had no food allergies, is that correct?"
"Yes." I look at the food without interest. "I'm not hungry."
"We'd like you to try and eat something anyway," the nurse says. "It's important that you keep up your strength- your body has a lot of work to do to heal itself and you'll need the fuel. I know that it might hurt so I've given you soft snacks tonight, and put in an order with catering to have soft foods for you tomorrow."
With my lower jaw swollen and aching, the fractured cheekbone that screams at me every time there's any pressure on my upper jaw and the loosened teeth, I can't chew. I'm not sure it matters, since my stomach is rebelling at the thought of food. But Jasper takes the milk and unwraps the straw and inserts it into the carton for me, and I silently accept it and gingerly take a sip.
The milk is cold and more soothing on my broken mouth and raw throat than anything else has been. Normally I wouldn't drink milk without Oreos or gobs of peanut butter to go with it but it tastes good today and helps take the coppery taste of blood out of my mouth for a little while.
"Good job," the nurse says approvingly, and I would roll my eyes if everything didn't hurt so much.
Seriously? I'm so pathetic now that I'm congratulated because I drank some milk?
I don't say anything though, and as the two nurses leave Jasper takes the lids off the other tubs and holds out the little plastic spoon. "What first?" he asks with false cheer.
The yoghurt's acidity stings my mouth too much to eat more than a spoonful, but the creamy frozen sweetness of the ice cream melts on my tongue and slips down easily. I don't touch the Jello, and after checking with me Jasper borrows the spoon and eats it and the rest of the yoghurt.
"Do you want me to stay tonight?" he asks. "The nurses said it's fine- this chair folds down into a bed and they'll find me a pillow and a blanket."
There's no way that the six foot plus Jasper is going to fit comfortably on a tiny fold out chair-bed, but I'm too selfish not to jump at his offer. I don't want to be alone. I nod, and then without meaning to lift my hand and touch my face.
The skin feels so tight and hot over the swelling on my cheek and jaw that I'm afraid just the pressure of my fingers touching it might be too much and it will split. Up against my hairline there is a wound they've stitched, and the scratchiness of the thread they used contrasts sharply with the softness of my hair. My lower lip is split and feels dry and crusted with scabs, and as I explore the unfamiliar terrain with my hands I remember how it looked in the mirror.
Jasper is watching me, his face unreadable.
"It's pretty bad, isn't it?" I say softly.
He nods slowly. "Yeah, it's not great." His eyes glimmer with tears as he chokes out. "I just want to fucking kill him Rose, I look at you and I could…"
"Don't." I reach towards him, stopping sharply as the pain in my ribs seizes me. "Don't."
Jasper takes a deep breath. "Right. I'm sorry, I don't want to upset you."
I lean back carefully against the bed. "I can't think about him right now. If I do…I don't know if I can stand it, you know? I'm scared that if I think about him then I start thinking about what happened and what they did to the baby and how much I've lost and…I don't know how to live with that, Jas. I don't know…it's like it's all broken, everything, and I don't know how to put myself back together…" I can't talk anymore for the lump in my throat.
Jasper takes my hand and gives me a crooked smile. "I think I kind of know…it'll be okay though Rose. You'll get through it."
We sit in silence for a moment before he jumps up and goes to the backpack. "I bought you your phone," he says, digging it out of the front pocket. "The police had it, but it's not evidence so I got it back. I charged it too. And I've got your laptop so we can hook into the hospital's wifi, and your e-reader and some more clothes. Dad bought some stuff earlier but….well, I thought you'd find some yoga pants and t-shirts and regular underwear more comfortable to sit around the hospital in than what he brought for you."
His face is slightly pink, and for the first time since I woke up I want to laugh. Jasper and I take it in turns to do laundry and he mocks me mercilessly about what he calls my 'stripper underwear'. I think it's funny that he's embarrassed mentioning the regular cotton bikini knickers he's bought in for me.
"Thanks," I say simply, taking my phone and turning it on. It lights up and immediately starts beeping at me, telling me about my missed calls and messages and texts and emails. I look at the missed called and see that there are eleven from Royce, and I immediately turn the phone off and put it down on the bedside table with a shaking hand. "Not now," I say softly to Jasper.
Jasper takes the phone and looks at the list, his lips tight. "I'll delete them for you?" he offers, but I shake my head.
"No…I'll listen to them later. Maybe."
Jasper nods and then pulls out my laptop and sets it up on the bed table. "Let's watch some tv….I've got the first eight seasons of the Simpsons on there for you, and that'll take a while to get through."
