Page 109 of Love Takes Home

That voice. I know that voice. Does that mean Joker’s here? He’s come to rescue me? Why would anyone let someone scream like that? It’s hurting my ears.

“Beautiful! Open your eyes, please!” He’s yelling at me over the screaming.

I try to do what he asks, but that weight on my chest, it’s keeping me from doing anything.

“Do something to help her!” someone else cries. Trish? Lottie? I can’t tell because of the screaming.

And then it’s silent. The screaming has stopped. And someone has removed the weight from my chest.

“Ginny?” Joker says my name quietly, like he’s at my ear speaking just to me. “Beautiful, can you hear me?”

“Hmm,” I answer.

“Baby, I want to see your eyes. Can you open them for me?”

I try. But they feel like they’ve been glued shut or something. I shake my head. At least I think I do.

“That’s alright. You keep them closed as long as you need to.”

“Always…so…nice.” I’m slow to get the words out, but I do. Am I drunk? Also, is that my voice? I sound like I’ve been at a concert or something.

I feel the vibrations of his laugh. “You think I’m nice?”

“Umm-hmm.” I nod my head.

“I think you’re pretty nice, too. Do you hurt anywhere?”

I try to take an inventory of my body, but I really feel like a head floating above everything now. “Nuh-huh.”

“Good. That’s good. Rest now, okay?”

“Love…you…”

“Love you, too.”

It’s dark. I don’t know how I know that, but I do. At least no one is screaming now. But I’m not sure where I am. I can’t possibly still be at school, right? I mean, if I am, the floor is soft.

“Gin?” a female voice asks.

“Trish?” I gasp.

“Yeah. It’s me. Are you okay?”

“I think my eyes are glued shut, and where the hell am I?”

“You’re in the hospital.”

I rub at my eyes until they open. The room is blessedly dark, but the sandpaper I now own for eyelids really sucks. “Why?”

“What’s the last thing you remember, Ginny?”

“My classroom, Keith was there. He hit me. I pulled out a gun.” My eyes widen as the memory comes back. “I shot him.”

“You did. And then you lost consciousness.”

“How long? How long have I been here?”

“It’s been about nine hours.”

---