Page 16 of Surviving the Darkness

I want to kill the guys for not telling me about what happened but, first, I need to make sure she’s safe and protected. Why weren’t they watching her if they knew her mind was so fragile. Have they gone mad? I don’t understand how this could’ve happened. My brain can’t comprehend it. Meadow used to be difficult when someone pissed her off, and I imagine she’s much feistier now, but still, they should have been watching her, notletting her drown alone in the memories of what she went through.

I love those men, but they can be so fucking stupid sometimes. I remember when Knox called me after running into Meadow on the beach. I had to laugh at how distraught he sounded, almost like a sixteen-year-old boy pining after a thirteen–year-old girl who could do nothing about it. I also remember the day he called and told me they claimed her. He told me every detail, and I wanted to reach through the phone to strangle him because he had a part of her, I’d never been able to have.

My love for the girl was strong back then, and it’s only grown since. I may be obsessed with the woman and regularly check on her to make sure she was okay through the years, but I know once I physically see her, she’ll bring me to my knees. Meadow is the only girl who makes me want to bow down to her. She is my queen, and every day I will make sure to remind her who she is.

Chapter 16

Meadow

Beep. Beep. Beep. I open my eyes and quickly shut them again due to the bright lights. My head throbs in pain, and I sigh. I try to rub my temples, but something is preventing me from doing so. My throat is dry as I try to speak, but nothing comes out. I crack open one eye to see where I am, but the blinding pain in my head tells me it’s a bad idea.

Where am I? Why do I feel like death? I shake my head, but that makes the pounding pain worse. My stomach turns from how much it hurts, and I try to sit up, but I can’t. My muscles aren’t working, and I turn my head just in time to vomit over theside of the bed. I hear voices, but I try to drown them out. The constant noise makes the pain even worse. All of a sudden, I feel something warm my body, and I start to feel numb. There’s no more pain, and I drift off to sleep a few moments later.

Whatever the hell is beeping needs to stop. The sound echoes around the room. I peek one eye open and notice that someone dimmed the once-blinding lights. Sighing in relief, I attempt to open the other. I can feel the crust keeping my eyes shut. Moving my hand, I wipe away the sleep, willing my eye to open. Now that I can freely look around, I notice my surroundings. The walls are white, the curtains are green, the room is very clean, and it has a sanitary feel to it. I continue my search and find the bed I’m lying on isn’t a normal bed; it’s a hospital bed. My arm is bandaged with gauze that wraps from elbow to wrist, and my other arm has an IV with fluids running through it.

The memory of how I ended up here hits, and I remember I did this to myself. I’m the reason I’m lying in a hospital bed. I should be six-feet under, but the guys must have found me. Why did they do that? My stomach flips, and I feel my nausea coming in full force. I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to, as I lean over the side and throw up on the ground. At least it wasn’t in my bed this time. A nurse must hear me because she comes rushing in with a vial in her hand. I watch as she moves to the IV pump and presses a few buttons, then inserts the medicine into the line.

“This is just nausea medication, Meadow. I’m not sure why you keep getting sick, but this should help. I’m glad to see you’re awake. The doctor wants to talk to you but figured you needed the rest,” the nurse in blue says and smiles.

I wish I could smile back, but I can’t. I don’t know why she’s happy. I’m in this room against my will. If I had it my way, I wouldn’t be here at all. I don’t understand why the guys just won’t let me die. Haven’t I suffered enough by their hands? I just nod at the nurse as she keeps talking. She comes around the bedand starts to clean the mess I made on the floor. I feel bad that she has to, but I push that aside.

“When is the doctor coming in?” I ask, my voice hoarse from vomiting and the burn in my throat.

“He should be in within the hour. I’ll let him know you’re asking for him and see if he can’t get here sooner,” she says.

I nod my head, and as she leaves, I ask, “What’s your name?”

“Karri. If you need anything just press that red button on the side of your bed, and I will be right in!” Karri tells me before walking out.

I sigh and lay my head back on the thin pillow. No wonder my head hurts, this bed is uncomfortable. The pillow is as thin as paper, and the sheets are rough against my skin. I look down at my body and see the scars on my arm on display, but the rest of me is covered with a green gown, small miracles, I guess. I hate each time I see those scars. They remind me too much of my failures and the hell I went through that I couldn’t stop. A tear slips from my eye, and I wipe it away with my good hand.

I’m crying silently in bed when I hear the door open. In the doorway stands a man in a white coat. I try to hide my tears, so he doesn’t think I’m a basket case, even though, I totally am right now. I sit up with a wince; my head is pounding again, so I try to ignore it as the doctor comes to the side of my bed.

“Hello, Miss. My name is Dr. Pearce. I was here when you were brought in. I know you’re probably confused, and I will answer any questions you have, but first, tell me how you’re feeling,” he says with a warm smile on his face.

I continue staring at him as I try to form words, but I forgot what he said. I feel like an idiot because I just keep staring. Look away and answer his question Meadow. “Ohh, umm, my head hurts, and my arm is sore,” I rasp out.

“Okay, I can get you medicine for that. It sounds like your throat is dry. Would you like something to drink? With yourbouts of vomiting, I think you should stick with water for now. I don’t want to upset your stomach any more than it already is,” Dr. Pearce says.

I nod my head not wanting to speak again. The doctor seems nice at least. I zone out for a minute, then the doctor starts talking again.

“I understand you have been through a lot and your emotions are all over the place. I want to make sure you get the help you deserve, Meadow. The hospital has a policy in place for patients when they come in with self-inflicted wounds. As soon as you’re healed enough, you’ll be placed under an involuntary hold for seven days. During that time, you’ll meet a few different doctors. Now, you don’t have to say anything to them, but if you don’t show progress, your stay will be extended. This is to protect you, Meadow. We want to see you live a good life. I hope you let them help you,” Dr. Pearce tells me.

“I understand. Thank you, Doctor, you can say it, though. I tried to commit suicide. I don’t want to talk to anyone, but I will give it a shot,” I say with the best smile I can muster, though I’m lying through my teeth. I just want the doc to leave.

“So when will I be released to them?” I ask, trying to figure out the timeline.

“I want you to rest here for another day, then we’ll move you. So as long as everything is okay tomorrow, we will send you upstairs. I don’t want you to see this as a punishment, Meadow. I’ve seen a lot of souls come through here who have no will to live, but I know you’re strong, and I want to see you thrive,” he says.

“You don’t know me, Doc. How can you be so sure that I’m strong?” I ask.

“Because I can see it in your eyes,” he replies, then walks out.

Okay, I’m more confused than ever. I’m not strong. I’m the furthest thing from it. Sighing, I rest my head on the pillowbehind me. Looks like I’m going to be here for a while. It’s a good thing, I guess. The guys won’t be allowed back here if I say so. Not like I think it'll stop them, but one can hope. As I sit here deep in thought, the nurse comes in and asks if I want to try walking since I’ve been in bed for a few days. I nod my head and let her help me stand.

Once my grippy-sock feet meet the floor, a wave of dizziness hits me. The nurse notices and tells me to sit here for a minute. She explains that I lost a lot of blood and needed two transfusions. I’ll be tired for a while until my body recuperates. It makes more sense now why I feel like a truck hit me. She said the doctor explained all of this, but I must have zoned out while he had been speaking.

The dizziness subsides, and the nurse helps me stand. We stay here for a minute until I feel I can walk. By the time we’ve walked a lap around the nurses station, I’m exhausted. I make it back to my room and sit in the chair instead of that awful bed. I glare at the bed like it's the reason for all of my pain. Once I’m seated, the nurse leaves and comes back with some medicine and a cup of water. She tells me to relax and let my body heal, and lunch will be by soon. I’m told I will be getting soup since my stomach needs a break from anything heavy.

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