Magic Shop - Paul Lahote FF

Eight

27 hours. That's how long I've been in this room, staring at the bland colored walls, looking out the window, watching the TV. My parents visited as soon as the doctors finished stitching my arm last night, but they had to leave when visiting hours ended. My friends came this morning , but it was clear I didn't feel like having company so they left an hour later. The only other person in here has been the nurse coming in to change the bandage.

I don't talk. I don't even know what to say. How can I when all I can think about is what happened? It doesn't make sense. It's not possible. A part of me feels like I'm going crazy, maybe I am. Maybe I've lost my mind and nothing was real.

The door slowly opens, my nurse entering the room. She smiles kindly at me, but I don't return in. "You have a visitor." She tells me. "Would you like for me to send her in?" I nod, thinking mom has returned. But it's not her.

Emily Young mutters a quiet thank you to the nurse before the door closes and leaves the two of us alone. "Man, I forgot how awful this place is. The gross food, the TV only playing old people movies, the walls. Really kills your spirit." She says more so to herself as she gazes around the small room. "But the nurses are nice. Naomi bakes you cookies for when you're discharged." She pauses, and I think it's because she expects me to say something, but I remain silent. Emily sighs and takes the seat next to the bed. "The pain gets better after a few weeks. I experience phantom pains sometimes, but it's only when I have a bad dream or when something triggers the memory."

Her words echo through my head as I think back to when she was attacked by that bear. But when I scan the scars on her face and compare them to the ones on my arm, a bear attack doesn't sound right. The reason she's here, talking to me only after I've been attacked - we've never really had a conversation before - it's because we've had the same thing happen to us. "It was Sam, wasn't it? He attacked you." My voice is hoarse and my throat burns as I talk for the first time since yesterday.

Emily nods and twiddles her fingers. "He didn't mean to. Neither did Paul." I can't help but flinch at his name.

"So it was real? The story Billy Black told at the counsel meeting. Shapeshifters exist?" Emily grabs my hand reassuringly to keep me calm and nods again.

She begins retelling me the story, going slow and pausing here and there to make sure I understand. "All of their senses and emotions are heightened." She explains when the story is over. "Paul had anger issues before he first shifted. He was getting into fights at school all the time. His anger only increased when he became a wolf, but now he has Sam and Jared to help him with control. He's getting better, but he has his days. Anger causes them to shift involuntarily." She tells me what happened when Sam attacked her. They had gotten into a fight, Sam got mad, he shifted, Emily was too close and got hit. "I forgave him after a while. I know he didn't mean to, that he couldn't control himself back then. But he's changed. And Paul will, too."

"Unbelievable." I scoff. Of course, she's not here to make sure I'm okay. She's here to vouch for Paul. "If you think you can get me to forgive Paul just because of your story, then you can leave." I raise my hand when she tries to speak. "Goodbye, Emily."

After one last glance thrown my way, Emily stands and disappears out the door.

I can't believe her. I thought she understood me, sympathized with my pain. But she just wants me to forgive Paul. And I don't know if I can. I understand that he can't control the shifting and who he hurts, but how can I ever look at him without being afraid?

~~~~~~~~

"Alright, Miss Rouse. Change the bandage every four hours, clean it with this antibacterial spray, and here is your medicine for the pain." Dr. Cullen shows me the items before handing them to my mother, who stuffs them into her purse. "Wear the sling at all times. I will see you in two weeks to remove the stitches."

Mother and I wave bye to the doctor before walking out of the hospital. I was only there for another day after Emily left.

Mother is silent one the drive home, but she glances at me every few seconds. I know she's worried about how I will react to being in a car, but I assured her I would be fine. Getting into a car crash isn't what I'm afraid of.

Father is home when we arrive, opening the door with welcoming arms and a plate of cookies. They're from Naomi, he says. She had dropped them off at the store in case she didn't get a chance to see me before I left.

A delicious smell fills the air. Resting on the kitchen table is a plate of egg whites, sausage, and hash browns. My favorite meal. I smile gratefully and take a bite, which is more difficult then I thought seeing as I can't use my right hand. So much better than hospital food.

"So, school starts on Monday." Mom says as she takes a sip of her milk. School, forgot that was a thing. "The principal understands if you want to take a few days off before returning."

Monday is only three days away. Will I be ready? Small town like Forks, I know everyone will have heard about my...accident by then. "No. I'm good, really." I'll be fine. It's just high school. "What about Coach Gia? Have you talked to her?"

"Honey." Oh no. Nothing good ever comes out of his mouth when he calls me honey. "Dr. Cullen says to keep the bandage on for two weeks before the stitches can be removed. After that, if you are still in pain, you might not be able to play this year."

Not play volleyball this year? "But it's my last year. I can't just not play. Scouts are coming." Mom nods and places her hand over mine, rubbing soothing circles into my palm. "What are the chances I won't have any pain?"

Dad sets his fork to the side and runs a hand through his hair. "With the tissue and nerve damage done, not just to your arm but your hand as well, you'll be experiencing pain for at least a few weeks. When Dr. Cullen removes the stitches, he'll test your hand. It's likely you'll need physical therapy." I look down at my hand. It's covered in bandages and rests in the sling. The pain is slightly tolerable, but I know that's only because of the medication. Besides the pain, all I feel is numbness.

"It's over." It's not a question. I know it's over. My volleyball career is done. My chance at a scholarship and getting out of this town is gone.

I sob as I come to this realization. Mom and dad try to comfort me, but I make some excuse about being tired and retreat to my room.

Y'all idk if any of that medical stuff was accurate but we just gonna say it is.