Chapter Twelve

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Upon waking up, I can't even recall falling asleep. That is, not until I'm met with the same exact hospital I'd ran away from the night before.

The memory of headlights reflecting off of something unfamiliar fills my senses, along with a feeling of dread that comes rushing back to the front of my mind.

The same beeping machine hooked to mom yesterday is hooked to me now. My eyes feel majorly crusty as I lift my arm, every muscle complaining at the effort. Various tubes snake around my body and I briefly wonder how bad of a crash I'd been in.

A crash...? Is that what it was?

My arms are both covered in deeply colored bruises and lots of little cuts.

I groan, wanting everything to disappear. How has so much, yet so little happened over the past 2 weeks? And how did I get to where I'm at now?

Everything happened unexpectedly. I wish I somehow could've warned myself so I'd be more prepared to handle it. But now, having to deal with what feels like my entire life falling apart, I don't even feel the energy to dissect what's happened.

Where do I even start? The fact that mom tried to kill herself again? Or that she stabbed dad and lied to me for over a year? Or how Mr. Halloway had also lied and played me like a record? The realization that perhaps I'm just an easy fuck and apparently a bit too gullible pisses me off.

In response to my anger, the beeping machine speeds up.

Once I dig my way through my foggy thoughts, I acknowledge that more parts of my body hurt than I originally thought. Ranging from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, I feel my pulse painfully in every muscle of my body.

I'm still spiraling, feeling the overwhelming urge to sleep once more. I'm aware that I've just woken up and my life is an absolute wreck, but the deep depths of unconsciousness is so inviting. I don't want to have to deal with this now anyway.

I'm not strong enough right now, in any and every sense.

I've not only reached the climax to my story, but I've exceeded it.

I feel as if all previous priorities no longer matter. School, weed, Mr. Halloway, Drea, David...I don't care about any of it anymore. I just don't have the motivation to.

My eyes flutter closed, but just as I settle into blissful darkness, the sound of the door being slammed open, followed by loud chatter of other nurses fills the silence.

I have no understanding of what they're saying, it's almost as if they're speaking another language. I briefly wonder if they're unintelligible or if I am.

"Paige Amberly? Paige, if you're awake, I want you to show us. Give us any sign that you're awake." A light is shined against my closed eyelids, to which they flutter back open.

What a kind way to wake a patient up. I want to ask why the hell she has the light of heaven itself right up in my pupils, but my throat is far too dry and I end up coughing on air at any attempt to speak.

I wait for saliva to coat my throat and relieve the dryness, but it never comes. My mouth is parched beyond comprehension.

I try speaking again, but this time all I can muster is a voice crack.

Holy hell, what's going on? I panic just a bit, aware of the lack of control I have over my body.

Though I can weakly lift my arms, that's all I'm limited to. My fingers are cold and stiff, not offering much flexibility in their movement either. I can't feel my legs at all, though. This is what worries me most.

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