𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔, ˢᵗᵘʳⁿⁱᵒˡᵒ ᵗʳⁱᵖˡᵉᵗˢ

✦Accidents [Nick] [4]✦

❖･｡:˚ *✿—————✦—————✿* ˚:｡･❖

｡:✿————✿:｡

A month earlier (right after the car crash)

My eyes flutter open sluggishly, my body weak, unable to conjure up enough strength to move. The red and blue lights overhead bleed into each other, welcoming me to close my burning eyes. The cold, wet pavement against my back seers into my burning skin, my limp body lying on the freezing ground. The cold feeling a dark contrast to my bruising skin. My heart race thumps treacherously faster, shaking my body with its beats. It seems as though all of my senses are enlightened at the searing of pain through my frail body. I close my heavy eyelids as shrill voices are exhausted from people nearby, leaving me confused. Unable to care about the racket I focus on the hand that's now gripping me.

The hand envelopes my limp arm, holding the unnourished appendage. Their nails dig into my skin, a wet feeling then overcoming it, and then a needle digs into my skin. As the needle breaks through the surface of my skin I am drained of thoughts, the pain slowly trickling through me.

Within minutes, the drugs start to take hold of me, my conscious grasped tight, ready to take me under. My eyes flutter open in a weak attempt to keep myself from sleep. I struggle against the darkness, trying to focus on the now-shaking feeling around me. I'm moving. Fast. Other than the trembling of the ambulance I am in right now I undergo the feeling of pain from tubes stuck into me, each needle and syringe a reminder of the restless memories bouncing around in my head.

My eyes are still blinking open and closed when I take a heavy breath, long and drawn out. Then I stop trembling. The ambulance stops. A shaky breath escapes me. I blink slowly. Then again. Then I'm gone, have given into the lightness...

✿—✿

I wake up, everything a blur, aggravating beeps beeping around me in an angry symphony. I can hear rhythmic footsteps in the distance as lights blind me from above. My eyes burn against the light and as I strain to sit up, only to be met with a wave of pain. I lay back down, submitting to the inability to move.

I feel empty, my body frail and hollow, a weird looming feeling in my gut. I gaze at the tubes being stuck into me, my eyes traveling up the tubes and ending at an IV pole, the blood dripping slowly into me from it. Then I pier down at a little table next to the bed, a small water bottle and clock sitting on it. I move my right arm to pick up the bottle, struggling to grab it with the inability to move. I screw the cap off with my teeth and carefully pour it into my mouth, finding the water a disgusting warmth. How long have I been here?

My eyes find the clock, gazing at the bright blinking letters. 10:54 it reads. I exhale and stare at the ceiling, waiting, waiting, waiting. I don't know what I am waiting for but I'm waiting for...something. After about thirty minutes of just laying in the scarce room—an unbearable feeling starting up in my stomach—and a doctor walks into the room. It feels like my stomach is...just empty. Like all my insides were scraped out like you would do to pumpkins on Halloween. It feels like I need to drink water to fill me up, but I'm not going to drink that horrid water again.

"Hello, Nick. It looks like you just woke up. Well, how are you feeling?" The lady speaks to me in a hushed tone. Her dark black hair resting at her shoulders and her dark chocolate skin glistening under the bright lights.

"Fine, I guess. I feel like shit," the words roll out of me in a grumpy voice and I can't stop them. I feel bad for cursing like that in front of her but I also find myself not caring at all.

"Does your body hurt?"

"Yes. I don't like having these stupid tubes in me," I grunt annoyingly, feeling held down, constricted from doing anything from these stupid tubes in me and the blanket that's wrapped tightly around me. I just want to rip them off and run out of this hell hole.