Chapter 3

As he set eyes on her body, a nauseating sensation overcame him, which forced him to turn away and face the wall. The small reaction to Monica's appearance immediately summoned immense guilt. Andrew scolded himself for turning away from his best friend. No matter what the state of her physical appearance was, she was still Monica. He turned to look at her again, but again the sight of her battered and broken body made him sick. It wasn't disgust that forced him to look away, but the thought of all the pain she was in. If her outer appearance was this damaged, Andrew couldn't imagine what her delicate human nerves were experiencing. Tess said Monica was trapped in this form which meant her pain was great and she did not have her angelic strength to soften it. Once again, he felt nauseous. He closed his eyes, willing the feeling to fade away. His stomach calmed, and Andrew opened his eyes to study Monica.

Andrew was at the foot of her bed, so he decided to start his analysis there. Her right leg was laying out of the thin blanket that covered her body, propped up at the ankle with a pillow. A plaster cast covered it from foot to knee. He assumed her left leg was fine since it laid naturally under the cotton blanket. His eyes scanned up her body, noting a pillow under her hips and between her legs. Her torso seemed alright, her elevated position giving him a full view from her abdomen up. He noted that her right arm was in a cast, from hand to elbow. Monica's face was almost in focus in his vision, but he forced himself to continue the slow climb up her body. He needed to note every detail of her body before getting lost in her face. Andrew concentrated on looking at her left arm. She had two broken fingers and defense wounds were prominent on the back of her hand and her forearm. His eyes reached her exposed clavicle, the hospital gown hanging loosely off her shoulders. It was black and deep purple with bruising, Andrew assumed it was broken. His eyes hesitantly travelled to her neck, where once again her skin was colored with dark bruises. A pit formed in his stomach as he realized the bruise formed the shape of a large hand. That awful man squeezed Monica's throat so tight that it left his print on her skin.

The moment had come to study her face. He had already had a preview and he hated what he saw, but he needed to see what had been done to her. He pursed his lips together and raised his eyes. He was immediately upset by her image, and had to bring a hand over his mouth to stifle a cry. Monica's left eye was swollen shut, three stitches sat underneath it on her cheek. The entire left side of her face was purple and black. The bridge of her nose was twice its normal size, the bruise faded from black to blue as it neared her right eye. Under her right eye was another bruise which reached across her cheek. Even her lips fell victim to some abuse, a small line of dried blood laying on the split in her swollen bottom lip.

What crushed Andrew even more than the horrid state of her beautiful face was Monica's lack of dark auburn locks. Her hair had been cropped extremely short, except on her right side above her ear where it was completely shaved. He counted twelve stitches in the gash on her head. As he stopped pinpointing specific areas, and began to take in her entire body, he realized Tess was right. The angel before him bore no resemblance to his sweet little friend. She had been stripped, robbed of herself. As the machines beeped round him, he focused on the mechanical sound of her forced breathing. It was odd for him to find comfort in the machine that was filling Monica's lungs with air, but something about the movement reassured him. Andrew pulled a chair from against the wall and sat next to Monica. Everything in him wanted to touch her, but she seemed too fragile as if one touch could break her. Instead, he began to speak low and soft into her ear.

"Hello beautiful angel. I'm here now, you aren't alone." Tears began filling his eyes. "You are so strong, Monica. You're going to be okay now. I love you so much, baby. Tess loves you. God loves you. We are all here and we are going to help you heal." Her right eye fluttered as he spoke, as if she was trying to wake up and greet him. "Shhh, baby. Rest now, Monica. I promise I will be here when you wake up." He sat as close as he could get to her, spending the rest of the night and most of the morning speaking loving words into her ear. Andrew reminded her of her favorite assignments, told stories of their friendship, talked about different dogs, he tried anything that was light and happy to keep her soul at peace. He hadn't realized the passage time until Tess and Monica's doctor entered the room.