Ch. 9
"My fucking arm hurts. "
…
"Where am I?"
…
"I'm thirsty…"
I looked down at my arm, wondering why I was in so much pain. And why I was in a hospital gown… And in a hospital…
God dammit.
Did I do this? What the hell am I talking about, of course I did this.
But why?
I remember playing games with the boys in my flat. But who else was there?
The doors open.
A tall, brisk looking man walks through the door, holding a clipboard. He looks up, and gasps at the site of me, as if I was a dead man walking.
"Harry? You're awake?" The man said. A doctor, I'm assuming.
"Well… Yeah. I could be sleeping, you never know. But it'd be damn swell if you gave me those pills." I responded. I may as well tease the guy.
This was followed by many questions.
"How long have you been awake?"
"Well, I sleep about eight hours every night, and I have for 18 years. So, carry the one…"
"No, Harry. This is serious, about how long has it been since you woke up?"
"I don't know… It was about ten minutes before you came in."
"Amazing… Are you in any pain?"
"Well, fuck yes, I'm in pain! I've asked you for pills about eight times in ten minutes, you bloke!"
"Please calm down, Ha-"
"No, screw that! Why are you acting like I've risen from the grave? What the hell is going on?"
The doctor's face grew steady, and the look of amazement wore as he began to explain.
"Harry," he began, "you attempted suicide last night. You were brought to the hospital by your friends, but you lost a lot of blood in the meantime. You swallowed 28 grams of aspirin. When you arrived we had to pump your stomach, and stitch your arm. You fell into a coma, of which we did not think you'd come out of. You've been in that coma for 10 hours, and your friends were waiting for eight of them… But then when we talked to them…"
"What did you say? Are they still here? Can I see them?" The boys are the only thing that could make me feel better.
"Harry, eight hours into your coma we presumed you'd be dead by the morning. They'd been waiting here for nearly half a day, so we had to tell them." said Doc.
"You had to tell them… Tell them I was dead?" The blood drained from my face.
"Yes. After they heard the news they went home. They seemed very distressed, especially the young girl with them. I'm sure they'll be thrilled when we-"
"The girl? What girl?" One of Zayn's sisters? Eleanor? Danielle?
The doctor responded, "Well, I didn't get her name. She was a very attractive young woman. Blonde hair, grey eyes… Did you not know her? She seemed to know you."
And then it hit me.
Years came back in a single second.
Lola.
Her features slowly came back to mind. Soft radiant skin that hugged her body beautifully.
Golden flowing hair, pale pink lips. Stone grey eyes that gave of a look of pureness.
A beautiful and large tattoo covering her left arm. A cute dimple in her right shoulder.
It was her.
She was the mistress from my dreams, the gorgeous woman of which I fell in love with.
She was also the other person that was with the boys and I last night.
Last night when I did this…
Then I remembered the last detail about this beautiful fair skinned young woman.
Her and Zayn… kissing… In my own flat.
Was I mad?
I don't remember.
Did he love her?
I don't know.
Did she love him?
I really do not know.
Well, what the hell do I know?
That I should've swallowed the whole bottle.