Chapter 41 #2
“I'm sorry; I couldn't find anyone. It might be too late now, but they'll likely come by tomorrow,” he said, and I believed him. I was exhausted, longing for the dawn to arrive. Only one visitor was allowed, so my father left with the promise of returning in the morning.
I found myself running as fast as I could, as if the very essence of darkness had taken on a chilling form, relentlessly pursuing me. My legs felt like lead, and I could no longer push myself forward. I gave in to the shadows, and then… I awoke.
The sun poured into the room, forcing me to squint against its brightness. Alone, I could feel the pain intensifying, even worse than the day before. Frantically, I scanned the room for a call button, but found nothing. Just then, my parents entered, their faces a mix of concern and relief.
“Good morning! How are you feeling today?” my mother asked, rushing to grasp my hand. Behind her, my father stood, trying to conceal his tears.
“I want to see Zane!” I blurted out, noticing the shift in my mother's expression.
“The nurse will be in soon. They'll remove the catheter and help you get up,” my father replied.
An awkward silence settled between us, and then, a nurse walked in.
She was an older woman, her chocolate hair cut short, and she greeted me with a simple “good morning” before warning me of potential discomfort.
It felt more like agony than mere discomfort.
“My body hurts more today. Can I please have some painkillers?” I asked as she began to assist me to stand up.
“I'm sorry, but we can't give you any more medication due to your pregnancy. You'll have to bear the pain, honey,” she replied, gently maneuvering my legs to the side.
“I'll put a boot on your ankle for support, but try not to put too much weight on it. I can get you a cane if you need extra help,” she said, pulling my right arm to help me sit up while my other arm remained tied to my chest. My head felt heavy, and my skin was clammy and unpleasant. I longed for a shower.
The worst pain radiated from my chest. Every inch of me ached, but I had to stand; I had to walk to see Zane. I struggled to maintain my balance, feeling nauseous, likely from morning sickness. Tears threatened to spill, but I fought to hold them back.
My father took hold of my right arm, guiding me down the corridor, my mother staying close by my side. I scanned the faces around me, searching for someone familiar.
“I need to find Valentina!” I insisted. I also wondered where Marco was—he must have witnessed everything.
I needed answers. All I could recall were Zane’s final words: “Because I love you, dummy. I love you more than my own life.” Tears streamed down my cheeks, and my parents exchanged worried glances.
I couldn't comprehend how we survived; a head-on collision at that speed should have meant certain death.
It didn't add up, and I needed to know why.
“Sweetheart, he's not here. He's in a different department, in trauma surgery,” my father said, his voice heavy with the truth.
“Can we go there?” I asked, desperation creeping into my tone.
“I don't think so, sweetheart,” he replied gently.
“I need to talk to the doctor or a nurse. Please, Dad, go get Valentina,” I pleaded, halting to look him in the eyes. My body felt weak, even after just a few steps, and hunger gnawed at me, my stomach rumbling.
Suddenly, I felt an urgent need to use the restroom, but I couldn't seem to follow through, as if my brain had lost the connection to my body. My world was spinning, and I wished desperately for things to return to normal. I hadn't asked for any of this; I couldn't take it anymore.
My father left but returned quickly, disappointment etched on his face.
“I think I found Valentina,” he said, a flicker of hope igniting within me.
“But she doesn't want to talk to you,” he added, looking down.
Of course she wouldn't; we were in this mess because of me.
We returned to my room, and the nurse brought breakfast. I forced myself to eat; I needed strength to find Zane.
Hours later, the doctor entered and informed me that I was lucky and could go home in a few days. I asked about Zane, but he told me I couldn't see him yet. My heart sank. How could I just lie here, unaware of his condition?
I walked more during the afternoon, but the waiting was unbearable—more torturous than the physical pain. I ate my dinner but remained consumed by thoughts of Zane.
I had another nightmare, once again enveloped by darkness.
I awoke drenched in sweat; my heart was a train without brakes.
The ache in my chest was more intense than the pain from my broken ribs.
I was out of patience; I had to see Zane.
It had been far too long, and I just wanted to ensure he was okay.
An overwhelming sense of dread crept inside me, much like the darkness from my nightmares. I couldn't wait any longer.
I stood up, limping on my foot. My parents urged me to rest, assuring me everything would be alright, but all I could think about was Zane. I was already in the hallway. My mother grabbed my hand, but I pulled away, catching the attention of some nurses.
The nurse who had tended to me most often approached; she understood my desperation. She told me I would see Zane tomorrow, but I shook my head, insisting I needed to see him immediately.
She held my shoulders firmly, causing pain to shoot through me.
Waterfalls of emotion flowed from my eyes as I fought to break free.
I felt like a madwoman, and I could sense others questioning my sanity.
As my parents and the nurse tried to calm me down, reasoning with me to return to my room, I kept moving forward.
I screamed, a heart-wrenching cry that shattered my parents’ composure.
I looked unhinged, even to myself. But what was I supposed to do?
No one seemed to hear my pleas. It felt as if time was slipping away, as if I were racing to catch a train.
I had to reach Zane; he was my lifeline, my everything.
The unsettling feeling deepened, gnawing at me from within. I pushed through toward the elevator, knowing the trauma surgery unit was on the upper floor. He was so close, and I needed to tell him I loved him.
The doctor stepped in my way, telling me I wasn't allowed to take the elevator. I shouted at him, pushing him aside. I had crossed the line; I no longer recognized myself. Who was I?
I cried and screamed like never before, the hospital hall seemed to freeze in response to my outburst. My mother became hysterical, unable to comprehend her own daughter's descent into madness.
I couldn't blame her; I didn't recognize myself either. I was certain I would calm down if I could just see Zane, even for a moment. I pushed past everyone; my heart was like a dog off its leash and ready to run.
Suddenly, I froze, as if it were a silent theater and I was the only performer.
Silence filled the hallway. I dropped to my knees, feeling the darkness slowly reaching for me with its shadowy hand.
It felt as if my essence, my soul, was a wall of flesh, and that hand pierced through it, tearing away a piece.
Agony. Just raw agony. My back arched, my head fell back, and there were no words to convey the excruciating pain ramifying through every cell of my being.
A part of me was gone, leaving me feeling as if I were dying. Tears and sobs surrounded me as I realized the truth: I didn't need proof anymore. Zane had left me in this world alone. I felt it deep within my bones.
I collapsed onto my back, staring at the ceiling, wishing for him to take me with him—to that countryside house, the wet grass, the wind, and the flowers blooming all around. I closed my eyes, my swollen and crushed heart constricted by this hurricane, constricted so tightly I could hardly breathe.
Zane… Zane…