Broken Beginnings (Rewrites): Chapters Two

Chapter Two:

I squinted, regaining my focus, trying to remember what had happened, where I was, for a second, a brief second, the reality of the night before eluded me. I woke up thinking I was in my warm bed, at home, my butterfly comforter tucked up to my chin. The beeping of monitors, and a smell that was a mix of Lysol, bleach, Medicines and Sickness stung my eyes. …

I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t. My legs weren’t cooperative. I could feel nothing, and still I did not want to think about what that could mean. I just wanted to get up and out of here.

I looked around the room, wide eyed, when I saw my Mother sitting there, looking as if she had aged ten years in about ten hours. The concern was etched on her face. I watched as she got up when she realized I was awake, thanking G-d that I was awake.

“Doter, I was afraid I had lost you forever.” Mo said, grabbing the hand that was free of tubes, and wires, so hard that I flinched.

“Is Naomi okay?” I asked, but Mother’s silence spoke for her.

“She didn’t die did she?” I asked, panicked, I would never be able to forgive myself if Naomi died, what happened wasn’t my fault, but I still couldn’t help but feel guilty about what had happened. I had been the one that had asked her to come to the party with me. If we hadn’t gone that night, none of this would have happened.

“No, she’s still with us.” Mom said. “But it’s bad Doter, she had to have surgery to relieve the pressure from her brain.

I gasped “Brain surgery.”

“Yes sweetie, but the surgery went well, and she is holding her own, she’s strong Naomi, she’ll get through this, as will you.”

I nodded, not knowing exactly what she meant, all I knew was that I wanted to get out of here, away from the smell, I wanted to go home, and heal in my own bed.

“When can I go home?” I asked. I wanted to go home, and to heal in my own bed.

My Mother’s shook her head, tears streaming down her eyes. She didn’t need to say it, I knew in that moment I was going to be in the hospital for. a long time.

“How bad is it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even, not trying to freak out, but that was…