Everything feels too far away - distant, as if life itself is slipping away
from me as I run to my car, as shaking hands scratch at the keyhole for on
the driver's side door of my car -
I don't have the patience to try to remember the code that the little keypad would require. The key scratches over the silver-violet finish of the sportscar a few more times before I swear loudly before finally jamming the key in the slot.
A quick jerk of the handle swings the door open, and then I'm frantically trying to start the car -
I know there's nothing I can do about it, though.
They don't even know how he is, how bad it is -
I can't help but think the worst, can't help but think that maybe, this is exactly what happened all those years ago when I was too young to fully understand 'the accident.'
Panic rips through my veins as I run a stoplight. Two.
Horns blare aggressively in my direction, swearing comes from people who could only be either big burly truckers or spoiled socialites. It doesn't matter to me, though. The sounds of the rest of the world, the rest of the world period, doesn't matter.
If I were to have my revenge now, it would be bittersweet.
It doesn't mean I won't try, doesn't mean I'm now not all the more driven to come out of this with a vindicated heart and a smoking gun...
But a part of my soul hurt - it was a dull, slow ache, slowly growing as I turned into the hospital drive, car screeching around the turn.
One would think it were a matter of life and death.
As I slam into a parking space, unbalanced, I shove the gear into park, then merely sit for a few moments. The gun is stuffed under the passenger seat, as I know...
I can't take it in there. As much as I want to. As much as I'm feeling the need to protect now...
After that, though, I move out of the car, trying to keep as together as I possibly can.
Up the hospital walk.
Through the door.
To the nurses' station.
From there to the door seems - seems forever, and it takes all the willpower I have to keep from bursting into tears.
Something tells me, even before I open the door, that this is my fault.
But I open the door slowly, my breath coming out in a slow stream between closed lips, eyes fluttering closed, afraid of what they might see...
"Hailey." The voice is familiar, and I thank god for that. And maybe that's a false sense of security for me, as I open my eyes -
I simply wasn't prepared for the myriad of machinery ion the room, the beeps and clicks and wires and tubes -
I'd avoided hospitals as much as humanly possible since I was very young, and -
The similarities between when I was younger and now - the similarity chilled my core, but I tried...
Not to show it.
Limber frame settles into one of the uncomfortable chairs beside the bed, and I look away for a moment. It's harder to keep under control at the moment, and...
"...he knew you were alone. Was going.." The thought's never finished, but there's a small shudder that passes through the room, the air -
Neither of us has to say what the end of the thought was.
"You, though...are...?" The silence is deafening, strangling words before they have a chance to be spoken, sending another wave of the maddening quiet tension over the too-sterile walls.
He shakes his head. "Don't know. They're saying there's a chance I might not be as bad..." A soft sigh escapes. "Walking, right now, is iffy."
I want to cry, then. Cry and scream and find the bastard responsible for this and make him pay. Make him pay for my father, make him pay for this...
"I was only trying to keep you safe." A hand finds mine, giving the tiniest of squeezes. "I promised you that, didn't I? We're all we've got."
It's then, and only then, that the realization creeps over me. He's right. We are all we have; and this - this threatened to shatter that. Tears fell heavy over my cheeks, and I glanced around for a moment before moving to close the door, curling carefully on the side of the hospital bed.
We're all we have, and this - this is all we can do for each other.
For today, for tonight...
It all felt like it was sliding out of my grasp, and as I clung to the body of the man beside me - I clung to every hope that kept me going.
Every hope. Pain. Feeling.
More resided here than anywhere else in the world.
I don't have the patience to try to remember the code that the little keypad would require. The key scratches over the silver-violet finish of the sportscar a few more times before I swear loudly before finally jamming the key in the slot.
A quick jerk of the handle swings the door open, and then I'm frantically trying to start the car -
I know there's nothing I can do about it, though.
They don't even know how he is, how bad it is -
I can't help but think the worst, can't help but think that maybe, this is exactly what happened all those years ago when I was too young to fully understand 'the accident.'
Panic rips through my veins as I run a stoplight. Two.
Horns blare aggressively in my direction, swearing comes from people who could only be either big burly truckers or spoiled socialites. It doesn't matter to me, though. The sounds of the rest of the world, the rest of the world period, doesn't matter.
If I were to have my revenge now, it would be bittersweet.
It doesn't mean I won't try, doesn't mean I'm now not all the more driven to come out of this with a vindicated heart and a smoking gun...
But a part of my soul hurt - it was a dull, slow ache, slowly growing as I turned into the hospital drive, car screeching around the turn.
One would think it were a matter of life and death.
As I slam into a parking space, unbalanced, I shove the gear into park, then merely sit for a few moments. The gun is stuffed under the passenger seat, as I know...
I can't take it in there. As much as I want to. As much as I'm feeling the need to protect now...
After that, though, I move out of the car, trying to keep as together as I possibly can.
Up the hospital walk.
Through the door.
To the nurses' station.
From there to the door seems - seems forever, and it takes all the willpower I have to keep from bursting into tears.
Something tells me, even before I open the door, that this is my fault.
But I open the door slowly, my breath coming out in a slow stream between closed lips, eyes fluttering closed, afraid of what they might see...
"Hailey." The voice is familiar, and I thank god for that. And maybe that's a false sense of security for me, as I open my eyes -
I simply wasn't prepared for the myriad of machinery ion the room, the beeps and clicks and wires and tubes -
I'd avoided hospitals as much as humanly possible since I was very young, and -
The similarities between when I was younger and now - the similarity chilled my core, but I tried...
Not to show it.
Limber frame settles into one of the uncomfortable chairs beside the bed, and I look away for a moment. It's harder to keep under control at the moment, and...
"...he knew you were alone. Was going.." The thought's never finished, but there's a small shudder that passes through the room, the air -
Neither of us has to say what the end of the thought was.
"You, though...are...?" The silence is deafening, strangling words before they have a chance to be spoken, sending another wave of the maddening quiet tension over the too-sterile walls.
He shakes his head. "Don't know. They're saying there's a chance I might not be as bad..." A soft sigh escapes. "Walking, right now, is iffy."
I want to cry, then. Cry and scream and find the bastard responsible for this and make him pay. Make him pay for my father, make him pay for this...
"I was only trying to keep you safe." A hand finds mine, giving the tiniest of squeezes. "I promised you that, didn't I? We're all we've got."
It's then, and only then, that the realization creeps over me. He's right. We are all we have; and this - this threatened to shatter that. Tears fell heavy over my cheeks, and I glanced around for a moment before moving to close the door, curling carefully on the side of the hospital bed.
We're all we have, and this - this is all we can do for each other.
For today, for tonight...
It all felt like it was sliding out of my grasp, and as I clung to the body of the man beside me - I clung to every hope that kept me going.
Every hope. Pain. Feeling.
More resided here than anywhere else in the world.
