Chapter 47 - Reunited

-Andrea-

 

The second I saw Nate’s broken body lying in that hospital bed, I wanted to cry. Instead, I clung harder to Skye’s arm. She walked me to his bedside, next to all the beeping machines, and sat me down in a plastic chair. My throat was clenched shut, so I couldn’t say anything to Skye as she turned on her heel and practically ran from Nate’s room. All I could do was stare at him and listen to the machine control his breathing. I could practically feel my heart breaking in two.

 

I reached over and touched his cheek. It was eerily cold, like he was already a corpse but they were still going to try and save him. I pressed my hand harder against his face, wishing my heat would maybe rub off onto him. I wanted to feel him stir underneath my touch. I wanted to feel some life rush back into him, and maybe he’d even blush upon waking to see me right at his bedside. I even went so far as to pray for his eyes to pry themselves open, but tehey didn’t.

 

At some point, I broke down. My hand found his hand and I held it so tightly I’m sure he would’ve cried out had he been able to do so. Tears started to spill over my eyes and down my cheeks, then onto my stupid hospital gown. I tried to calm myself back down, but I lost control. Sobs racked through me and sent shudders up my spine and I was in physical pain and my head hurt and I was just broken. I needed Nate to wake up.

 

I felt responsible for what happened to him, even though it wasn’t my fault. I got kidnapped, then he was kidnapped. I had nothing to do with it. But the guilt still crept inside my mind and I thought dark things. Terrible things, I thought. And his lack of awakeness made everything worse. I just wanted him to wake up.

 

In the middle of my breakdown, I leaned over his bed and rested my head on his chest. I found myself wondering about whether I would’ve ever rested my head on him like this a lot sooner if we hadn’t been captured. Probably. But I’ll never know. Anyways, I heard his heartbeat through the thin blankets and thin gown and thick skin. It wasn’t very sturdy. Just a light tha-thump. But it was comforting, nonetheless. He’s alive, I reminded myself. Not dead. Just not awake. My face was getting sticky from my tears pooling up on his blanket by then. So I sat up, wiped my eyes, and couldn’t squelch the urge to touch his face again.

 

So I leaned back over and planted my lips upon his for just a second�"a tiny second�"before pulling back. Then I forced myself to stand up, and started to slowly walk to the door. My nurse was there, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was Romanian, and her blonde curls were very messy from a long day of nursing the basically deathly ill. She jolted out of it for a second when we made eye contact and straightened up, then flopped back down into a slump. I felt tears prickle at my own eyes again. She walked over and hugged me tightly, even though I barely knew her. I didn’t mind. The touch was comforting.

 

“I’m so sorry this has happened to you, little girl,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by my hair, but I could still make out the thick accent. “No little girl should have to go through this.”

 

I nodded in agreement. This was horrible.

 

 

 

My nurse�"Amelia was her name�"brought me back to my room. I laid back down on my bed and stared back up at the ceiling, that stupid bland ceiling.

 

“Would you like me to stay, little girl?” Amelia asked.

 

I nodded again, grateful. “Yes, please,” I managed.

 

So Amelia sat down next to my bed and stroked my hair and let me cry and after awhile joined in. When my eyes finally dried, we talked. We talked about Nate, mostly. When he got in, how he’s doing, if the doctors think he’ll ever wake up. That was where she looked away sadly and mumbled her reply. She said none of the doctors thought he would wake up. Two months in a coma? No response whatsoever? It was looking pretty bleak.

 

That’s when we switched topics. Well, kind of. We talked about my relationship with Nate. She wanted details, so I gave her details. I told her about how we met when my fist bludgeoned his face, the Pizza Fiasco in which I made an utter idiot of myself and when he found me after my ghombie attack. (I substituted ghombie for mugger.) I told her about the time I saw him at the mall, and then running around the school with him. (I left out the bit about chasing a ghombie.) I recounted our day in detention and the ride home he gave me after I got kicked out of Chase’s car. And with a blush on my cheeks, I told her about our first “date” and the two-second kiss we shared. The only one before today.

 

We were both sobbing violently by the end of my story. Amelia threw her arms around me and told me that she was, again, so sorry that all of this happened to me and my story was one that would make even her rock-hard father cry.

 

I was exhausted afterwards, and I drifted off to sleep once Amelia left. The nightmares were so awful I only got about two hours of actual sleep. It was pretty late when I woke up screaming, but there was someone sitting beside me. It was my mother.

 

She jolted awake and our eyes met. Hers teared up.

 

“Baby girl . . .” she started.

 

She looked better. Her eyes were no longer sunken in, and her flesh not so ghoulish. Her gaze was unwavering instead of glazed over. Her breath didn’t have any alcohol on it.

 

“Mom . . . ?”

 

She reached over and pulled me close in a hug. She didn’t feel so weak anymore, but I knew that could be a deceit. She used to be capable of beating me pretty bad, despite her “weak” physique. I kind of just sat there dazed while she cried.

 

“Baby, I missed you so much,” she sobbed.

 

“Mom . . . weren’t you in rehab?” I strained, racking my brain for the memory.

 

She smiled sadly. “I got out, baby. A month ago. I’m all better now.”

 

I hated myself for the crack in my voice when I said, “You’re really better? No more drinking?”

 

“No more drinking,” she agreed. Then she teared up. “And no more hitting, either.”

 

She broke down again before she could continue on. The only thing I could really hear was her scream/crying, “I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that please forgive me I’m so so sorry baby forgive me please oh god I’m so sorry.”

 

She seemed genuine, so I cried along with her. I knew I forgived her in my heart, but my head kept on screaming at me to pull away before the monster I knew lived in my mother emerged. But no monstrous mother appeared. Only a broken one.

 

I decided to stick with my heart and hugged her back. Then I pushed her away, my head getting the best of me.

 

“Mom, I . . . this feels weird.”

 

She bit her lip. “I know. It’ll take getting used to. I’m�"I’m a terrible mother.”

 

To this I said nothing and I don’t think she expected me to. But after a few moments of god-awful silence and stares, I did speak up.

 

“Prove to me that you’re not.”

Author's Note

stay tuned . . .

Reviews

[selkietales]

Oh my gosh... Nate, wake up soon! And yay, Andrea's mom! Maybe she'll teach her now?

[Jasmine Thousand]

I really am so happy that Andrea's mom is all better now!!! ^_^

[AK]

Oh god! I hope her mom is indeed a good person now! Andrea seriously deserves a good mom after all that she's been through....Keeo writing!

[Im a reel vamp lover]

Really Really good soooooo cant wait for more!!!!

[13ReasonsWhy]

AHHHH YOU CANNOT JUST LEAVE IT LIKE THAT I SWEAR MY GOD THIS IS INJUSTICE I SHALL SUE YOU EMMA THIS WAS SO SAD IS YOUR GOAL TO MAKE ME CRY AHHHHHH THE EMOTIONS.

btw, check your commas, theyre not all commas.