CHAPTER 17
Harvey
Two and a Half Years Ago ...
Everything can change in the blink of an eye.
One minute you’re enjoying your time with the people you love, and the next you’re fighting for your life on a hospital bed.
I close my eyes, and the rain hitting the window of the hospital room brings me back to the night of the accident—the night I became paralyzed and lost my ability to walk.
I wish I could properly put into words how I felt the first time I woke up and couldn’t feel parts of my legs. I felt some sensation from my knee to my foot in one leg, and some higher up in the other leg, but while that might’ve given anyone else hope, it made me want to die in my sleep still.
The surgeries I underwent for decompression of the nerves and vertebrae and to fix my left shoulder were the easy part—the blissful part—being in and out of it afterward due to drugs.
Every time I woke up, my brain aided me in forgetting the trauma. Once I was more aware, the doctor sprung the severity of my prognosis on me.
“Spinal injury…L1 or L2…incomplete damage…testing the extent of your paralysis…control of your arms and torso…some nerve feeling in both legs…”
Essentially, I was paralyzed, but with rehabilitation, I might be able to walk again someday, at least short distances.
The first time I barely registered anything.
The second time I was in denial.
The third time I knew there was no going back.
And that’s when reality set in.
What do you do when you wake up and you’re told that your basic desire as a human being to walk around freely has been stripped from you?
What do you do?
What do you fucking do?
Do you thank God for being alive and surviving the accident? Or do you shout at the stars for springing this on you?
So far, I’ve done neither.
I’ve lost count of how many days I’ve been here. But with the constant noise and beeping of the machines, along with the dreaded smell, it’s as if I’ve been here forever.
“Hey, buddy.” I hear Henrik’s voice next to me. “Mom spoke to Dr. Kabera, and you might be out of here in no time, just hang in there.”
I’m exhausted. I feel as if I’ve been deprived of sleep for decades, even though I’ve been out constantly. I can’t shake off the grogginess.
And thirst. Fuck, I’m thirsty.
The only thing I know to be true right now is that I still can’t feel most parts of my legs.
And I don’t even have the will, the strength, the mental capacity to wonder about it or fight for it.
All I know is that I don’t feel good—nor like myself.
Everyone is trying to cheer me up, but I’m frozen in time.
Frozen in this perpetual hell.
I don’t want to be here, I don’t think I deserve to be here, and I’m not sure I have enough will to live to survive it here.
“That’s good, right?” he asks me. I think twice… I can barely focus.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat, feeling as if I’m swallowing crystals. “For sure.”
I see it then. The look in his eyes. Call it pity or guilt or pain. He’s hurting for me. And I mean, of course he is. I don’t even know what I’d do if the roles were reversed and my younger brother were in my shoes.
“I’m so sorry this is happening to you, Harv.” He looks up, and I see the tears falling at wicked speed. He holds my hand tight until he remembers that I’ve got an IV. “Nobody deserves this,” he mutters.
Deserve.
There’s that word again.
The one that’s been toying with my mind on and off along with my consciousness the past few days or weeks.
“Harvey, say something, man.”
I got nothing.
Not even for you, brother.
The words won’t come out.
Instead, they’re building an empire inside my head.
I nod, and he lets out a pained cry before he wipes his nose with his forearm. “We’ll do everything we can to help you through this, okay? You’re not alone.”
Alone.
I don’t feel alone. I’m lonely . There’s a terrible difference between the two.
“Thanks, Hen.” I hold on to his hand with as strong of a grip as I can, though I know I’m weak.
As he tries to stem his tears, I can’t help but wonder if any of them have wished me dead. They’re grieving either way. I’ll never be the same again, and perhaps deep down, we all know it. This is as good of a funeral as any, and probably the perfect time to let my family shed their tears, as a part of me did die that night.
The pouring rain. The scream. The crash. The pain. The ringing. The burning smell.
Yet I barely have memories of the accident. It’s like a giant black hole. All my focus is on knowing that I heard this or smelled that.
But the rest is blank.
And yet I’ve held on to one thing during my hospital stay: the fact that Gemma survived, though with some injuries of her own.
Many bruises. A concussion. Broken ribs.
The thought that she could’ve died because of my recklessness breaks me.
“Gemma,” I whisper.
“Oh yeah! Gemma’s coming to see you,” he says as Dr. Kabera walks in, followed by my parents.
I mindlessly answer the doctor’s questions until I see Gemma walk into the room, and then finally everyone leaves to give us privacy.
I spot the bruise on her forehead, and it reminds me how close this was. How close I was to losing her.
This is all my fault—I destroyed our lives at twenty-one-years-old.
When she reaches the bed, I take her hand, desperate for her touch, to ensure that she’s truly alive and here.
That’s what I’m grateful for.
A million thoughts swarm my mind as I take in this moment, not knowing what to say. I can’t think of a single word to utter.
But perhaps I should start with sorry …
Because if it wasn’t for my stupidity, we wouldn’t be here.
I wonder what’s going through her head as well. She looks tired and a little broken, but still as beautiful as ever with her amber hair and green eyes.
What’s going on in that head of yours?
I miss her already. The void between us in this moment is undeniable.
I wonder if she’s worried about us too, if she’s thinking of leaving me. What if she thinks this makes me ugly? What is she doesn’t think I’m manly enough for her anymore?
I imagine if she left me and I never got to be surrounded by Gemma’s quiet little aura again.
All because I’m a fucking idiot.
All because of a coward who committed a hit-and-run.
“Come here,” I finally tell her. She sits on the bed carefully, and I wrap my arms around her.
“I’m here, Harvey. I’ll always be here.”
Sweet, naive girl. You have no idea what you’re talking about.
I won’t let you…I won’t let you ruin your life for me.
I wouldn’t love you if I did.
I shush her with a kiss on the cheek, then I give her a peck on the lips. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters. Things could’ve been much worse for you, much worse.” I say the words softly, speaking the most I have in a while.
We stay silent.
I try not to move. It’s not like my body will allow me to. It feels as if one move will break a rib, and my lower back feels like it’s on fire. And don’t get me started on the pain searing through my left shoulder.
My breath stalls, and life feels heavy.
But as long as she’s alive, I would’ve gone through anything for her.
She starts stroking my arm with her fingers, and finally I fall asleep.