Chapter Three
Dear Whoever,
Yeah, I know that you're going to read it anyway and I should put you name by "Dear" but I just don't feel like it, okay! And stop reading over my shoulder, you're jostling my OX tubes.
I woke up in the hospital a week ago. And according to the nurse, I'd been out for three. Three weeks of surgery, feeding tubes, amd drifting in and out of consiousness. God, I hate this place. But what I hate more is what happened because of the accident. I'll never talk again.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. After I hit the truck, or maybe the truck hit me, but what the hell, after the accident, Derek called 911. He stayed by me until we made it to the hospital, and then somehow contacted my family. Mia went into early labor when she found out, and gave birth just hours after I came out of surgery. Twins, a boy and a girl. She's naming them after Mom and Dad. Michael had a cow and tried to kill the guy who hit me, but the nurses sedated him. He went to go get a coffee. I guess he can't bear to look me in the face.
And I am pretty ugly. My face was the first thing that hit the truck. I broke my collar bone, my nose and sustained brain damage. Thanks to that and a couple of sliced vocal cords, I'll never talk again. The doctors said that there was so much damage to my throat that they had no choice but to take my vocal chords when they operated. I really don't blame them. The nurses say that I was cussing a blue streak even under sedation. But, hey, look on the bright side. At least I can still walk.
Oh, damn. Was I just positive about something? Now I really know that these drugs are getting to me.
Anyway, I'm getting out of this hell-hole soon. For that I can be thankful.
Cody
She smiled up at him, and handed him the letter. He took it from her and leaned over to kiss the top of her forehead before settling back in his chair. "You're not the only one who hates this place," he said after a moment, reading the paragraph. "Hospitals give me the creeps." She winked, and he laughed. When he had read a little further down Derek said, "Oh, sweet, you're not ugly. You're the prettiest thing on two legs." She glared at him. "Really, you are." Shrugging, Cody laid back and closed her eyes, suddenly feeling tired.
"Hey, are you okay?" He asked hurriedly. Cody opened her eyes and glared at him menacingly. He sighed. "I know, you feel like shit, but can't you just be happy that you're alive?" Derek asked desprately. He was getting tired of her negativeness. She motioned for him to hand her the paper. Underneath her letter she wrote:
I AM GRATEFUL AND HAPPY, SORT OF. BUT I JUST DON'T KNOW HOW I'M GOING TO HANDLE THIS. HOW MY FAMILY IS GOING TO HANDLE THIS. I CAN SEE IT IN THEIR EYES, MICHAEL'S ESPICIALLY. THEY HATE ME.
She handed him the note, and after he looked at it, he glanced at her. Cody's eyes were filled with tears, her body was racked with held-in sobs. He quickly stood up and strode over to the door, locking it. He nearly ran back over to the bed when he was sure that they would have privacy.
Derek pulled Cody into a crushing embrace, sitting on the edge of her bed and burying her head in his chest. "Just cry, just cry." he murmured. And cry she did, pulling him tight to her and leting her grief of the past few months finally wash over her in one big wave. She had screamed when she heard them die, but she hadn't cried. Cody hadn't cried at the funeral, amd had remained dry-eyed up for all these months, up until now. She hadn't known what sweet relief it would bring her, but had held it off for fear of looking weak. Cody would never do that again.
After a while her sobs subsided, and she looked up at Derek, mouthing THANK YOU. He squeezed her gently, carefully aware that she was still hooked up to several machines. She reached up and stroked his cheek, smiling slightly. Derek couldn't help himsepf, and leaned down to kiss her full on the lips.
