2
Amara
I startled awake, jolted by the sounds of running footsteps. A searing pain flooded through my skull, and I winced, sitting up and clutching my head. The sound of a code blared over the speakers, worsening my headache as I braced myself on the steel bars of the bed.
I was in the hospital bed with bars, speakers, and wires. Memories of why I was here flooded over me; the 9-1-1 call, the beating, and my blackout. I sobbed at the reminder of finding Mark in bed with someone else. How I had left him and how he damn near tried to make sure I couldn’t.
“You’re awake,” a nurse exclaimed softly as she approached me. “You’ve been out for two days. Your husband has visited nonstop. Poor thing is worried out of his mind. You gave us a scare, but you’ll be alright.”
I immediately looked around warily. I thought I was safe here and that he wouldn’t find me. I was wrong. He was here.
“Whoa, whoa, calm down,” the nurse reassured me, eyeing my heart monitor. “You’re safe, Mrs. Branson. You’re in the hospital. Your husband said you got mugged, and he found you at home like this.”
I shook my head as much as my pain would allow. Did the 9-1-1 operator not understand me? Did they never show up? Was I left there for a day, where Mark found me still unconscious on the floor, and he called an ambulance to cover his ass?
“Keep him away from me,” I whispered to the nurse. “He’s the one—”
“There you are,” Mark cooed, his voice dripping with sarcasm only I could pick up. “I’m so glad you’re up.”
I cringed, inching away from him. I needed to get out of here fast. How could I communicate this to hospital personnel?
“C-can you get me a coffee?” I stammered, not daring to look at Mark.
He shook his head. “Later, hun. Let’s spend some time together. How are you feeling?” I began to regret that I never told anyone what was happening in my home. The nurse smiled as she walked away, thinking she was leaving me with a loving husband.
Mark pulled the curtains around my hospital bed closed before he whirled to me, his eyes shooting daggers at me. “What the fuck were you thinking, calling the cops? You almost had me arrested, you bitch!”
“I was thinking that I didn’t want to die,” I whispered as I trembled, tears pouring from my eyes.
“You didn’t have to tell them it was me,” he seethed, grabbing me by the hair. “Thank God the cop that showed up knows me. You pull a stunt like that again, and I’ll pay a visit to your parents, you understand me?”
I whimpered, cowering and crying out at the waves of pain radiating through my head. “Stop it! Let me go!” I shouted, desperate to get out of his grasp.
An orderly opened the curtains as Mark released me, and I collapsed back on the bed. I prayed he saw, and I could hear the monitor's beeping accelerating.
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the orderly barked firmly. “You’re upsetting the patient.”
“She’s my wife,” Mark snapped. “She’s just confused. She was in our home, and she woke up in the hospital.”
“Funny because I’m pretty sure it had something to do with you yanking her hair from her scalp,” he snarled, motioning to security guards behind him. “The police also said something about no forced entry, so there was no break-in. Your knuckles are also scabbed over,” he said, nodding to Mark’s hands. “You might fool the officer from that night but can’t fool me. Now get out.”
“Your boss will hear about this,” Mark shouted as security flanked the orderly. He stormed away, and I felt myself sagging with relief. Finally, someone understood my distress.
“Thank you,” I sobbed openly, feeling broken and empty. “Thank you so much.”
“No problem, ma’am. Please tell me you’re leaving him?” he asked, looking at my chart.
“I already did,” I murmured, swiping the tears from my cheeks. “Then he did this to me.”
The orderly nodded sympathetically. “I’ll call some domestic violence shelters. We’ll find you someplace to stay tonight, don’t you worry. We’re moving you to a private room, and your ex won’t be allowed back in this hospital until you’re in the shelter.”
I nodded, wincing at the pain it brought me. “How bad did he hurt me this time? What’s the damage?”
“You have a concussion and several bruises. You had some internal bleeding that stopped on its own and some bruised ribs. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do but wait, and then you’ll be all healed up,” the orderly frowned. “I took a look at your records. Those broken bones you came in about a few months ago …was that him, too?”
I nodded, tears welling in my eyes again. “I can’t keep living like this.”
He nodded. “We’ll get someone down here to talk to you shortly. I’ll move you to your room now.”