Chapter 2

I woke up a week later in a hospital room. My voice was still hoarse, I must've screamed a lot. An IV bag was keeping my body fed and the beeping monitor kept track of the echoes of my nonexistent heart. The

first thing that hit me was the pain, the second thing was the memories. My heart rate accelerated and my mother appeared in my vision. Her eyes were red and puffy and her cheeks were tear-stained. Relief

washed over her when she saw I was awake but worry set in again with one look at me. I must've looked like a ghost. I'm surprised I wasn't one. Time seemed to pass in long stages that flew by in short

moments. A nurse appeared, summoned by my mom. She bustled around and checked all of the machines that I was hooked up to. Apparently there was more than the IV and the heart monitor. After another

increment of time passed my doctor came. He sat down in a chair across from me and told me what was wrong with me. The list was a long one. A broken right ankle, a dislocated left knee, a fractured left hip, four

cracked ribs and the fifth one broken. A broken collarbone and right arm, a fractured nose, two black eyes, and a concussion, as well as many gashes and major bruises. The worst being a deep cut across the

right of my brow and across my side. The worst bruise would ache for weeks any time I moved my chest. Including to breath. The seatbelt had left quite a mark. The doctor told me I was the only survivor. The

driver of the other car was drunk and had died that morning in surgery. My mother was crying again. I felt numb. I looked away from the doctor to the door to see Matt's piercing blue eyes gazing back at me from

the face of his sister. Emma would grow up without her older brother to protect her and comfort her. Her seven year old frame shook slightly from the control it took to not shed a tear. Slowly she walked over to

my bed and rested her hand gently on my cheek. Looking into her eyes I lost all control over myself that I had. I opened my arms for her as the tears poured from me and the sobs wracked my aching body. Emma

crawled into the circle of my arms and she too released all pent up emotion and together we grieved for the man we had loved and lost. The doctor stood and left quietly. I didn't see the pitying look on his face,

nor the way he had to wipe the extra water from his eyes in the hall. My mother left the room as well, I guess the atmosphere was to heavy for her to bear.

One month later I was released from the hospital; confined to a wheel chair while I recovered and bound for physical therapy for many long and grueling months. My friends crowded around me when the nurse

pushed my wheelchair out into the fresh air. They were all smiling at me, but their eyes gave them away. There was a mixture of worry, pity, and confused fear. I already knew life was going to be different, I

already knew it was going to be hard to continue, but it looked like I'd be continuing alone. My friends don't know who I am anymore-I don't know who I am anymore. My mother pulled her car up to the curb and

got out to help the nurse get me in so I could go home. My friends stood to the side and watched silently. None of them had said a word since I'd come out. I suppose none of them knew what to say. I surveyed

them, just as silent. There were only about six people gathered. Most of them had known Matt almost as well as I had. Two of the girls were crying now, tugged into hugs by the others. John, Matt's next closest

friend, was the only one who met my gaze. His eyes were red, but he refused to cry in front of me. Neither of us spoke, neither of us needed to. He knew what I was going through, or close to it. John was the

only one to offer help. He crossed the expanse that separated me from my group of friends. The nurse opened the passenger door and stepped back. John bent down and carefully lifted me from the wheel chair.

No matter how gentle he was, the movement was bound to hurt. I winced and water flooded my eyes, but I wouldn't let myself cry because of the pain. It wasn't worth it. John stepped toward the car and fear

flared up inside me. "Not there," I whispered. John frowned and looked down at me. "What?" "Don't make me ride there." My voice was shaking and it sounded small. John understood and stepped back. "You

have to ride in the car, Clara," John sounded torn. "Don't make me ride up there," I pleaded. The nurse closed the door quietly. "Will you ride in the back Clara? Can you do that?" John asked gently. I nodded my

head slowly and closed my eyes. I heard the nurse open the door to the back seat and then John stepped forward and set me down cautiously. He clicked the buckle into place and backed up. "If you need to talk

about… Matt," John struggled to say his name. "I'm not going anywhere." I would've thanked him, if the pain at simply hearing Matt's name had not swamped me.