Chapter Six: Bad News
It was over.
Everything had gone black... nothingness.
No color.
No light.
No sound.
Nothing but an endless darkness that stretched on endlessly beyond her closed eyelids.
She felt so weak that she couldn't even open them... she could feel herself floating weightlessly within the frigidness of this icy void, could feel the fierce winds lifting her hair away from her bare back... and yet, she couldn't move. Her body was incapable of doing anything. She wanted to open her eyes... she wanted to see where she was, why everything was so cold... why she felt so weightless. But she couldn't... arms drifting limply above her, physical body floating away from the street where she'd landed... she drifted through the dark.
Slowly becoming more comfortable.
The shadowy tendrils fit her like a glove... and a warm one at that: they cradled her in unseen arms and whispered loving things in voices that she couldn't hear. She didn't struggle when the feathery fingers slid over her eyelids and lips, and she may have even smiled a little.
There was no more pain.
No more loneliness.
No more need for the numbing ice to keep the shattered pieces of her heart intact.
Nothing penetrated the silence as she descended further and further into her subconscious. The darkness and silence wasn't frightening; in fact, it was soothing after experiencing so many whirling thoughts and mental traffic jams.
The black was absolute... unending yet solid, and even behind her eyelids she could see nothing and everything stretching before her. Infinite possibilities and dreams awaited her in that void.
However, a tiny light abruptly broke through the darkness and cut through the shell around her like a knife: the crack instantly began to widen and more light spilled through to the blackness, dissolving it, sending her spiraling towards a world full of light and warmth.
A ringing sensation suddenly filled her mind, making her lungs burn.
"Breathe!" a distant voice screeched; another flash made her silent heart thump once again. "Meg, BREATHE!"
"Megan!" someone else shrieked in a muffled tone. "Meg, can you hear me?! STOP IT! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!"
She knew that voice... she knew it like the back of her hand.
Her mother.
"Is she gonna make it?" a bored male voice asked. "If she dies, will we get insurance...?"
"Peter!" another voice screeched. "For once, SHUT UP!"
"MEG!" the first voice wailed, just as another flash lit up her eyes. "MEG, BREATHE!"
Chris? Meg silently wondered, looking towards the growing light with confused eyes. My... brother?
She thought she felt wetness land on her face.
A flash of confusion touched her as her conscious began to rouse. Slowly, her senses started to wake up. She was still trapped in darkness... although, not as thick of a darkness as before. Instead of feeling weightless, she realized he was lying flat on her back. Something was on her face, and muffled sounds slowly began to fill her ears.
"Thank God!" someone gasped. "She's breathing... she's breathing!"
"Meg!" Chris called. "Meg!"
"Our work isn't done," someone with a deep voice snapped. "Please leave the room! She's still in critical condition."
Meg's eyes slowly flickered open, but the bright lights overhead made her feel like she was going blind. Blurred shadows moved above her, and a mask of some sort was resting on her face. She watched, irises glazed over, as someone knelt down and looked at her face more closely.
"Doctor!" a female voice exclaimed. "Doctor, she's conscious! She's regained consciousness!"
"Anesthetize her," the deep voice barked. "We can't have any mishaps during the surgery on her spine."
"Yes, doctor," the woman murmured. "I'll give her a mild dose right away."
Meg struggled to turn her head, but the moment she moved, agony rocketed throughout her abdomen, although she couldn't feel her legs,
She dazedly watched as the woman leaned down, holding a needle of some sort. The horrible thing poked her shoulder with an awful sting: everything began to blur even further, and sounds slowly began to echo in her ears.
A strangely numb and tingly sensation overtook her senses as she drifted in and out of consciousness.
She caught vague flashes of color here and there... but for the most part, she was out of it.
After several hours of being in this nightmarish half-dream state, things darkened and halls were flashing past. The muffled noises had gone quiet.
Her eyes slowly flickered closed, and she lost consciousness.
For the longest time, she heard nothing but an odd ringing noise... but what was it...?
Could it have been a voice...?
Was it wind chimes...?
Or water running...?
Metal... shards...?
Red water... dripping out of a...
The world around her seemed to swirl... it was transparent like an old movie.
"What do you mean?!" her mother silently screeched. "That's impossible! Meg can't..."
"It is..." someone whispered, voice threading through her ears. "I'm sorry, Miss Griffin..."
"What are you doing here...?" someone whispered in an insubstantial voice. "What are you doing here... what are... doing... here?"
"Meg," a static-riddled voice hissed. "You really were a mistake."
Then... the world was gone.
Blackness. Infinite shadow stretching on endlessly.
Then red... all over a cracked floor.
Floor...
Red Rivers... white pools... milk?
She opened her eyes with a jolt, but the bright lights overhead once again made her cringe almost instantly. She closed them again to block the light.
Wait... light? she silently wondered, groggily trying to figure out what was going on. Where... am I?
In truth, her mind wasn't completely awake yet.
She could hear noises and knew she was awake, although she couldn't really feel anything... but the sounds were all wrong. The squeak of rubber on linoleum had replaced the gentle thrushing noise of the trees outside her bedroom window. The rattle of trays in a metal cart instead of her father's snoring and her mother's quiet sleep-mumbling.
Meg slowly tried to roll over, but for some reason, her body wouldn't budge.
For a long moment, she felt disoriented... her body felt strangely shaky, and there was a horrible ache in her limbs. She waited for her ears to stop ringing, then struggled to lift her head and blinked when she realized that her muscles were acting funny.
She couldn't remember how to lift her hands or move her legs... for some bizarre reason, her body didn't seem to be familiar with the memories of movement.
After a moment, she opened her mouth to call for help... but nothing came out, and her eyes widened with shock.
She tried again... but no sound escaped her lips.
Her vocal chords didn't even twitch.
A steady beeping that had been present up until this point began to fill the air.
She didn't know how to move anymore.
Struggling like a newborn infant, tears began streaming from her eyes: her arms slid across the white sheets as she struggled, still trying to scream for help, to shout for anyone nearby, but somehow, she knew deep down inside that something bad had happened to her.
It was something that went beyond getting any normal help.
Fear immediately flooded through her heart and she violently thrashed sideways, mindlessly slapping at the sheets with arms that felt like rubber. She couldn't feel anything... but a few seconds later, a shrill alarm went off, and she flailed around even more.
That's when she heard a door swing open.
"Ellen, go get the doctor right now! The patient in room three seventeen just woke up!" a female gently called; a set of hands soon grabbed her shoulders and gently set her back down. "Easy, honey, just calm down… there's no need to pull out your IV, okay? Just rest... you've been through a lot."
IV? Meg wondered hazily; her head was pounding and her body ached. What IV...? What's going on?!
She slowly opened her eyes, then opened her mouth and struggled to speak... but once again, only silence.
She choked, body refusing to comply with her wishes, and the woman stared at her until she got an idea.
Swallowing hard, Meg began to mouth what she wanted to say.
'Help me! I can't move or talk!'
The woman blinked, then tilted her head, staring at her lips... but when Meg repeated it, she abruptly turned pale.
"That's... um, I'll go get the doctor," she stammered, backing away. "Try to stay calm until I'm back."
Meg wanted to let out a protest, but the woman was gone—leaving her alone.
She lay there, trembling in fright: feeling was slowly coming back to her body, but as it did, the ache in her limbs grew more and more intense. Her neck was in a brace, gauze had been plastered all over her legs and right arm, and there was something wrong with her back. Before she could really start panicking, the door opened only a few moments later and someone else walked in.
"Whoa there," a strangely deep voice said. "You're bleeding... must've done a number on your arm."
Shivering, Meg slowly shifted her eyes, trying to see who was talking to her: she smelled Old Spice, the kind of aftershave that she gave her father every year for Father's day. However, this wasn't her father's voice, so who was it?
Who...? she silently wondered, still struggling to make her throat work.
"This is the first sign of life that you've shown in two whole weeks," the man sighed, gently clamping down on her wrist when she tried to move it again. "You're gonna rip your IV out if you keep flailing: you need to be careful. Now... I was told that you're having problems with your voice and motor control. Is this true?"
Meg opened her mouth, working her throat... but once again, her voice remained silent. Her tongue and the insides of her cheeks felt as though they were furry with cotton when she finally nodded.
The man's eyes darkened.
"Try to speak, to the best of your ability," the man murmured, patting her wrist. "I'm sure it feels like you've got something stuck in your throat, but please... give it your best shot."
Meg took a deep breath and willed herself to talk: she worked her throat as hard as she could, face turning bright red with the strain, but in spite of the herculean effort she put into it... not a single sound.
Her voice, like some sort of caged bird, refused to break free of her. Fear swept through her, hot and heavy, and she looked at her limbs.
Fluorescent light bulbs buzzed overhead, making the skin of her arms look almost bone white.
Through the slats of the venetian blinds on the window, she distantly made out the sight of the ocean surrounding her hometown.
Silver rails fenced her bed like a curb.
Brown hair splayed out on the pillow beneath her, she slowly turned her head and looked at the person who'd spoken with terror.
She beheld a clean-cut older man with tight blonde curls. His wire-rimmed glasses gleamed when he flashed a penlight in her eyes, but after a moment he frowned.
"Looks like most of the cobwebs are gone," he comically explained. "I'm Doctor Kesslov."
Meg stared at him with a dazed expression, then struggled to speak again with no result. Dr. Kesslov remained silent, but the worried look on his face made her extremely uneasy.
Shaking his head, the man leaned forward.
"We're going to do some tests," he noted. "I'm going to ask you to move a specific part of your body... and I want you to do as I say to the best of your abilities, all right?"
Meg hesitantly nodded, then winced at the pain in her neck.
"Move your right arm," he commanded; she struggled to do so, but he seemed satisfied when her limb twitched and slowly brushed against the sheets. "Good... now, your left arm."
She did as he asked.
"Wiggle your fingers," he instructed, watching as she fought to do so; with several twitches, her fingers finally responded, albeit much slower than she was used to. "Good. Now, move your legs."
Meg tried to do so... but like her voice, they wouldn't respond.
Hell, they didn't even twitch.
Her shoulders tensed with fright when she continued struggling, but her muscles remained immovable and she shook her head, heart speeding up again. The doctor watched her flail a little more before he lowered his eyes, closing them with a grim expression on his face.
"I thought so," Dr. Kesslov sighed, squeezing her wrist. "I'll explain everything once things have been settled, but right now, there are people who've been waiting to see you."
With that, the doctor stood up and walked over to the door before sticking his head out: she heard a murmuring of voices in the hallway, but after a few moments, the doctor pulled himself back inside before swinging the door aside with a smile.
Meg had a moment to wonder why the man was smiling at her that way, but then, her parents walked into the room with a crew of television reporters behind them.
Meg blinked in shock when her mother spread her arms wide and rushed over to the bed, throwing her arms over her and burying her face in the pillow beside her head: she could feel tears on her neck, and although she wanted to ask Lois what was wrong, she couldn't get a word in since her throat was still stuck.
Her mom pulled back and started kissing her face all over, weeping.
"Meg," she whispered, shakily lifting a hand and tearfully running it through her hair. "You're okay... you're okay!"
Meg was speechless and riveted with shock.
Her mother, not once in her whole life, had ever kissed her, let alone hugged her, or even touched her so familiarly.
Why? she fearfully wondered, shivering. What happened to make her like this? It isn't possible!
Then her father walked in.
He instantly folded his arms, face pulled into the same expression she'd seen on the day he'd shot her.
"She looks fine to me," he complained, making Lois jump. "What do you mean she'll need extra care?"
"Mr. Griffin," Dr. Kesslov murmured, measuring his words very carefully, "perhaps we should discuss this elsewhere."
"No, I want an answer now! Explain it right here!" Peter snapped, making Meg flinch; Lois sighed, then pulled back and looked at the people holding the camcorders. "Aside from being all beat up, what's wrong with her?!"
The doctor averted his eyes, ignoring the people who turned the cameras on him.
"Megan Griffin... your daughter," he muttered, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but your daughter seems to have been paralyzed from the waist down."
Meg felt her heart drop through the floor.
Her face went slack, and her eyes widened, lips parting slightly.
Paralyzed?
Paralyzed?!
The word ripped through her heart like a wildfire and sent panic shooting up her throat just as Lois straightened up in horror.
"P-p-Paralyzed?!" she choked, making everyone in the room turn to look at her. "What are you talking about? Are you saying she'll never walk again?"
"Not at all!" the doctor retorted, making her fall silent. "With the right care and proper treatment, there's a chance she could learn to walk again in rehabilitation... but the biggest problem is that she can't seem to speak any longer. I have a feeling it's because of the damage done to her spine."
Paralyzed? Meg silently asked, vision hazing over. No... this isn't happening... I was so close to getting out of here...
She felt like she was freezing from the inside out.
"Impossible," Peter growled, slowly shaking his head. "Impossible! It's not true!"
"Rehabilitation?!" Lois whispered. "Exactly... how much is that going to cost?!"
Dr. Kesslov looked at her.
"Quite a bit," he explained. "It isn't covered by your insurance."
When her parents shared a grim look, Meg swallowed hard. After the bomb had been dropped, her parents left to converse with the doctor more, and the people holding the cameras went with them.
Why they'd even been there, she didn't know... nor did she care. Meg was too busy mourning her future to worry about things like that: she lay staring at the ceiling, brown hair splayed out around her head with tears streaming down her cheeks.
Paralyzed.
She had been paralyzed.
She didn't really remember how, just vague snippets of Stewie and something red... but her future... her future at getting away from everything... it was gone.
When it her, Meg broke down and cried her eyes out, shuddering with the force of her anguish, but not a single sob escaped her lips... only soft exhales of breath. Quiet whispers, a mere ghost in comparison to her raging emotions.
Eventually, she had no more tears left to shed.
When the doctor finally came back, her parents weren't with him, but she'd expected as much. They'd probably decided to leave so they could plan what to do about her. However, after being wheeled out of the room and down the hall by the doctor, she found herself in a strange room.
She was lifted by two people onto a strange mat and sent into a bizarre machine that rotated above her.
After going through several more tests to figure out the dilemma she was experiencing, she was put back on the mattress and wheeled back down the hall. Her gaze fell upon the window as she was wheeled back inside the hospital room. Sunset... everything had been bathed in an orange glow.
The doctor left her not long after.
All alone.
The position she'd been in her whole life.
Her heart throbbed with agony as she lay there.
She didn't know what her new future would hold... but whatever it was, it most definitely wouldn't be pleasant.