Part 2- Woodwork by Atlas

I opened my eyes to a lustrous light, burning and preventing them from opening fully. I felt heavy, broken down. I felt like I had been asleep the past eighteen years of my life, my body stiff with lack of movement. When I did move, however, it felt as though I had been bagged up by Santa Claus himself, slammed across his big, hard shoulder, and taken on a sleigh ride down the chimney to hell. It even hurt to wiggle my fingers around.

"Mona?" I heard a soft voice above me. I struggled to open my eyes and keep them open, but futilely. A hand very gently brushed down the side of my face.

"Mona? Mona, sweetie, it's momma. I'm here. Open your eyes, baby," I heard bustling as swift footsteps enter the room.

"Is she awake? Mona, open your eyes. Can you open your eyes for me?"

NO! I wanted to scream to whomever this new voice belonged to. Didn't he see me struggling? I tried speaking but nothing came out, my mouth was so dry.

"Nurse, could you get us a cup of water with a straw and turn down the light. Thank you," I heard the male voice demand. The harsh light suddenly diminished and I felt my eyes water with relief. Slowly, I tried opening them, blinking severely, but managing to keep them from sliding shut.

"Oh, Mona," I heard that soft voice again. I looked over to see my mother hovering over me, tears in her big green eyes. She looked like a wreck, like she hadn't slept the past eighteen years. I instantly felt worse than before.

"Mom?" I croaked.

"Mona, my name is Doctor Roderick. You are current under my care in ICU at Amherst Hospital," I looked over to match the male voice with a face. Doctor Roderick had a gentle, plump face with warm brown eyes. He looked at me comfortingly as he bent over and took my hand in his. "Trust that you have my upmost confidentiality. Right now, I need to ask you a few questions and go through the events the night you were attacked. Is that all right?"

I nodded my head as a nurse appeared with a styrofoam cup in her hand. I took it gratefully from her and sipped on it slowly. I felt my mother's hand slip in where the doctor's had been; I gripped onto it tightly.

"First of all, I want to explain the extension of your injuries," the doctor hesitated as he looked over at my mom who sat slouching in her chair, caving her body in on itself. I gave her the best smile I could muster. The doctor continued, "You were hit rather hard on the head which caused you to suffer a severe concussion. We have already given you a CT scan to check for bleeding. Although the concussion was severe, your bleeding was not. We were able to stop it during surgery. There are some contusions, but that will all heal fairly easily. We will do a few tests to see how your reactions and reflexes are. Are you feeling dizzy at all right now?"

I nodded my head once; it was in fact killing me.

"We've given you some pain medication intravenously which hopefully that has been helping. You've broken a couple of ribs and your sternum was bruised, but thankfully not fractured or broken. Your right arm has sustained a fracture in the radius and ulna," he continued to explain, picking up my right arm which was plastered in a white cast from my fingers to my elbow and pointing to where my arm had been hurt.

"What about Delia?" I interrupted him.

My mother's head snapped up instantly and I oscillated my gaze between her and the doctor. They both had somber expression on their faces. I felt my stomach drop to my knees.

"What?"

"Uhm," Doctor Roderick stuttered, "Delia was found beaten rather… severely. She had been repeatedly hit in the back of the head and her air supply had been cut off due to strangulation. When the paramedics arrived she wasn't breathing and she had no pulse. They managed to resuscitate her on the way to the hospital…," the doctor cut off and looked towards my mother who was shaking now, tears streaming relentlessly down her face.

"Could you give us a moment?" She choked out. The doctor nodded his head silently before smiling at me sympathetically and walking out, closing the door behind him.

"She's okay? She's still alive?" I questioned, wanting to believe it was true, but feeling the stabbing pang of loss deep in my heart. Slowly shaking her head back and forth, my mother avoided my gaze as she answered my questions.

"The paramedics managed to revive her in the ambulance, Mona, but… Oh, God," she cut off and sobbed deeply. She finally raised her eyes to mine, "Mona, she was in such a bad way. There wasn't anything they could do. She only lasted for five minutes before she went back into submission… I'm so sorry, honey."

The air buzzed around me. I could feel my pulse quickening, my head hammering. All of the sudden, I couldn't breathe.

"Doctor!" I saw my mother yell, but I didn't hear her. All I could hear was my ragged breathing, coming in and out frantically. She was dead. Delia was dead. Our childhood spent together, playing in our matching Sunday dresses, giggling. We shared stories of our first kiss, our first crush, our first love. Us both terrified of our first day of 6th grade, but not feeling anything compared to the nervousness we held for our first day of high school… High school. We had gotten through the first day together and we were also supposed to graduate together in two weeks. Only two weeks, but she was gone; her chance completely and utterly gone. And I never felt so alone in my entire life.

"Mona, I'm going to give you a mild sedative to help calm you down, okay?" Doctor Roderick asked me. I nodded my head. My lungs and throat were burning. He stuck a needle into my IV and soon I was taking deeper breaths. My heartbeat decelerated.

"Maybe we should just let her rest," my mother suggested worriedly.

"I think that would be for the best. I wanted to avoid this as much as possible, but there is a detective here demanding to speak to Mona."

"No, it's out of the question. She's just woken up after three days, she just found out her best friend was murdered! There's no way," my mother's voice rose shrilly. The doctor nodded.

"I'll let her know. Get some rest, Mona," he patted my hand and gave me another soft smile before exiting the room.

"Momma," I whimpered and my searching hand found hers once again. "Momma, I miss her."

"I know, baby. I'm so sorry," she wiped at my cheeks, brushing away tears I didn't know I had been crying.

Laying there in the hospital bed, feeling helpless and inconsolable, I gave into my tears and my memories. I didn't want to think about that night, anything but that night, yet it ran through my head over and over again. I couldn't stop it.

I saw her blond hair flying around her face as he repeatedly slammed her against the wall, his hand a vise-like grip around her throat. Her face was turning blue, and I was helpless to stop it. Why couldn't I have been strong enough, clever enough? I had witnessed two murders; my best friend's and a complete stranger's. Why had I been left to live?

I didn't know, and I didn't care. I just wanted to lay there and think about her. About how hard I had tried to be strong, to fight. I couldn't help but think that despite what I had did, I had lost. I had lost and I couldn't save her. I felt that maybe I wouldn't be able to save myself either.

What up, peeps? I remember in my original publishing of this story that I decided it would be a cool idea to suggest a song for each chapter. Well, I'm doing it again! The song is up at the beginning by the heading. It's a sad song, so it fits well with this chapter. Happy, or maybe not so happy, reading!