28. Still Alive
Still Alive
Electra
I wasn't okay, and as much as I tried to persuade my best friend about it, she didn't believe me for one second.
It didn't take her long to break through, and I ended up crying like a hysterical baby.
Sobs almost tore me apart. The breath stuck in my throat, my chest tightened, and the oxygen couldn't find its way into my lungs. I was having a real panic attack.
However, Zoe knew how to guide me through it without the help of doctors, nurses, and their magical drugs.
She managed to calm me down, even when it was challenging.
She held me in her arms, whispering soothing words into my ear while brushing my hair, but she couldn't chase away the anxiety in my stomach.
Fear for Bastian was eating my soul like a bunch of starving bugs. Worries and catastrophic scenarios were wrapped around my almost collapsing heart, supporting my edginess to the point of no return. The tremble of my body intensified every time I thought about his life being in danger.
I couldn't stop thinking about his pale face, the bruises on his torso from when paramedics cut his shirt, or the high-pitched sound that resonated through the forest when his heart stopped. It was the most frightening thing in my entire life—witnessing someone I loved fighting for his life .
"Breathe, Electra. You'll get through this," Zoe said gently, loosening her tight grip on me.
"What if he d-dies?" I sobbed, pushing my head up from her lap. Wiping my wet cheeks with my shaking hands, I connected my puffy eyes with her concerned ones.
"Don't think like that." She shook her head, giving me an encouraging look. "He is a fighter. You must believe he will win."
"How?" I cried out, moving away from her.
She couldn't possibly understand how I was feeling.
She never cared about any man for more than two nights.
She was never in a serious relationship or in love.
"You didn't see him lying helplessly on the ground when the doctor was giving him CPR! He was dead!"
"But he managed to come back," she objected, trying to touch me, but I didn't let her. I didn't want to be soothed into some fantasy. I needed facts, but no one cared enough to answer my questions.
"For how long!?" I yelled, standing up from my bed. "They won't even let me see him."
"No one can see him, Ellie," she pointed out, sighing exasperatedly. "He needs rest and a quiet environment, not your consternation."
"I have to see him!" I burst into another fit of crying, hugging my torso desperately while loud sobs were escaping my lungs. "I-I need to...m-make sure...he's s-still alive."
Zoe jumped to her feet, enveloping me in her embrace.
Resting my head against her shoulder, I barely listened to what she was saying.
My mind was full of Bastian and his rarely smiling face.
I couldn't imagine a world where I would never see his beautiful eyes, hear his stern voice, or feel the touch of his hand on my skin.
Picturing it without him was so painful that my brain started to shut down.
It began succumbing to the emptiness, which quickly spread through my veins, making me immune to any consolation.
Zoe's reassuring words didn't reach my ears because I was deaf to her voice.
Her hug didn't bring me comfort because I didn't feel anything.
It was like a switch was flipped in my head, and I instantly became numb to everything around me. One moment, I was hysterical, almost tearing my hair out in panic, and the next, I didn't care about what was happening.
Maybe it was my body's coping mechanism, so I didn't lose my mind. Either that, or I just couldn't handle more stress. The only thing preoccupying my tired mind was to run away from this room and get to Bastian. Nothing else mattered to me, just him.
Like some great power had heard my prayers, Zoe's phone rang, making me wince.
I pulled away from her, watching as she answered the call with an annoyed grimace stretching across her face.
It was her boss who demanded her presence in the office.
It was almost midnight, but he obviously didn't care.
The huge case they were working on was his only concern.
"I must go," my best friend muttered apologetically, hiding her cell in the back pocket of her jeans. "Will you be okay here?"
"Of course." I nodded, trying to give a sincere smile, but I failed. Tears again welled in my eyes, but I forced myself to stay strong. It was an excellent opportunity to disappear from my room and visit Bastian.
"Call me if you need anything, okay?" She placed a kiss on my forehead, worry evident in her eyes.
"I will," I promised, taking her hands in mine. "I'll be fine, and I'll call you tomorrow."
"He'll pull through; I know it," she stated while she hugged me for the last time and then left me alone.
With a heavy feeling in my chest that didn't want to vanish, I sat on the edge of my bed, forcing my brain to cooperate with the rest of my body. The drugs were probably still cruising through my system, weakening my senses, but I had to make my legs move.
A few minutes ago, I was ready to burst through the roof, and suddenly, the entire situation was again crushing me.
It was like sitting on a roller coaster without any chance to decide what I wanted to do or feel.
I was overwhelmed and weak. The strength left my body, but then, a moment later, a picture of a grinning Bastian appeared in my head, and I forcefully pushed myself to my feet.
I dragged myself down the corridor to the elevator but quickly realized I had no idea where Bastian should be. For sure, his family would never have left him in a regular room, so my first guess was the VIP wing.
With my head hanging low, simply as a precaution, I walked to the left, where other rooms were. My room was also in the VIP wing, but it was nothing compared to the extravagance of the place I found behind the closed double doors.
The entrance hall was decorated with light wood and white leather armchairs and couches along the walls.
The coffee tables were covered with every possible magazine I could think about.
My shoes clicked on the dark floor, and I sighed when I looked out the massive window at the scenery outside. The view of the city was exquisite.
The place gave me goose bumps, and I almost forgot I was in the hospital. Thankfully, the receptionist's desk was empty, and no security guard was there either. With one last look outside, I swiftly pushed open another double door, and the smell of disinfectant hit my nose.
The corridor was the same color as the entrance hall and was perfectly decorated, but the luxury couldn't hide the fact that people could die here at any moment.
Most of the doors into the rooms were open, and the sounds of beeping machines and artificial ventilation made my heart painfully clench in my chest.
I peeked into every open space, but Bastian wasn't in any of them. Only the last door at the end of the hall remained, and I prayed to God that he would be inside. Otherwise, I wouldn't know what to do next.
With my heart beating somewhere in my throat, I gently turned the knob and stuck my head into the room just to see who was there.
However, I didn't see anything because the room was dark, and the only light source was a beeping machine next to the bed.
Looking over my shoulder to see if someone wasn't watching me, I walked in, closing the door behind me.
Taking small steps towards the bed where the person was lying, I almost couldn't hear any sound because of my racing heartbeat. I was petrified of seeing Bastian in a devastating condition, yet I was also scared of him not being there. Ultimately, I didn't know exactly what I wanted to find.
Inhaling a deep, shaky breath, coming closer to the huge hospital bed, and looking closely at the person in front of me. My heart painfully skipped a few beats in a row, but my body was relieved.
He was there, peacefully lying on the bed with his eyes closed.
His face was exactly as I remembered it—bruised but exceedingly handsome.
The longer stubble on his jaw and chin, along with the timidly lit room, made him look rough, and a small smile crept on my lips.
He had a bandage wrapped around his forehead because of the brutal hit he received during the crash, but other than that, he looked like the last time I saw him.
However, when I looked down at his torso, the almost invisible smile that appeared on my face instantly disappeared. A long bruise was stretched through his chest, probably from the steering wheel. The airbag didn't prevent him from hurting himself, and it was the same with his bandaged abdomen.
I didn't remember every second of the accident, but from what I overheard in the ambulance, his injuries were caused mainly by his side of the car crashing against the tree.
The door was smashed, and it hit him in the left side of his ribcage, breaking his ribs.
One of those fractures pierced something inside, and that is how the bleeding started.
He was lucky enough to survive that long, and thanks to the major surgery he underwent, he at least had a chance to fight.
I couldn't imagine how much pain he'd been in while we were in the car.
He had broken bones, a gash on his forehead, glass in his forearm, and all I did was ask stupid questions.
He was suffering, and I couldn't see anything but my hurt ego.
Yes, he made a mistake, but I should have been more observant.
I should have gotten him help much sooner.
I gently took his hand, leaned closer, and pecked his cheek. Tears welled in my eyes while the guilt consumed my every cell, but I managed to push them back. He couldn't sense my desperation. I had to be strong for both of us.