Young Writers Society

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Thin Air 1

I woke to the feeling of crinkly bed sheets and beeping sounds. And heaviness. Never before in my life had I felt so weighed down. I kept my eyes closed, unsure of the feeling of unfamiliarity that clouded my thoughts. Where was I? This wasn’t my room. It didn’t smell like my room.

I breathed in deeply, and then stopped, trying to hold in a mangled gasp as it felt like my ribs shattered to pieces. My eyes snapped open as my heart beat increased. I was freaking out. I moved my hand to clutch my ribs, hoping the pain would fade faster, but I was stopped. I let out a sound when I saw a needle stuck through the crook in my elbow, connected to a tube that ran up and out of my sight.

The crinkly sheets and too clean smell made sense now. A hospital room.

With my mind going in a million different directions at once, I did what came as a natural instinct.

“Dad?” I yelled. I tried sitting up, which was stupid, because the jarring pains came back, along with some others I would’ve liked not to notice. What was going on? I started to panic, realizing I had no idea why I was hooked up to machines in a hospital. What had happened?

“Dad!” I shouted, my voice higher than normal.

I heard footsteps approaching quickly, echoing around the corner. “Dad?”

It wasn’t my dad. David came into the doorway, his face in shock.

“David?” I asked, sitting back in surprise, but quickly getting distracted as the muscles in my back throbbed. “Ouch,” I pushed out in a breath.

He hurried to my side. “You’re awake! Oh my god, Heather.” He awkwardly tried giving me a hug around all the tubes, trying not to hurt me.

“I’m so glad you’re awake, I thought you weren’t going to…You’ve been out for a while, we didn’t know how serious it was, and your dad has been trying to—”

“—David! What happened?” I asked, desperate and confused. I’d been out for a while?

David stopped fidgeting, looking at me. “You…don’t remember?”

Him saying that made me even more scared. Should I remember? Was there something wrong with my brain? “David, where’s my dad?” I exclaimed.

He started backing up. “He’s here. Do you want me to get him? I’ll get him.” He rushed out the door, and then peeked his head back in. “Heather, don’t fall asleep. Stay awake, okay?” And then he was gone.

I sat there for a second, my mind in shock. What had happened to me? “David!” I called after him, but he was too far away to hear me. I was afraid to move, even turn my head. I didn’t want to feel that pain again. As best as I could, I looked over my body. I could tell I had a cast on my left leg, from the way it was awkwardly shaped under the blankets. Both arms were stuck with needles in the crook of my elbow, and some type of monitor was clipped to the forefinger on my left hand. I gently touched my abdomen, hissing in a breath as it throbbed. I obviously had broken bones and bruises there. I was about to raise my hand to my face when my dad came rushing into the room, David following closely after.

“Dad!” He came and sat on the edge of the hospital bed. He clasped my hand in his, and I started to cry.

“Heather, honey,” he said soothingly, looking worried and extremely tired. David walked around the bed and clasped my other hand, watching me.

I shook my head. “Dad, I don’t remember anything. And I just hurt…” My stomach muscles tightened as I tried to hold in tears.

“I know, baby. I know it hurts,” my dad said, leaning in and kissing my forehead.

“See,” David said softly, “She doesn’t remember.”

I looked over to him, and his jaw was clenched. He squeezed my hand softly.

I turned to my dad. “What happened to me?” I remembered David saying I had been unconscious for a while. “How long have I been out?” My head hurt with all the questions, and trying to remember.

My dad grimaced. “About four days…”

My heart sunk to my stomach. “Four?” I said quietly. I felt David move closer, squeezing my hand again.

“You’re going to be okay, though. Alright? Just remember that, you’re going to be fine.”

I closed my eyes, breathing slowly. I’m going to be fine. I was relieved to know that none of my injuries were critical enough to put me in some kind of danger for my life. But all I wanted to know was what happened. And why I couldn’t remember. Knowing that I just came up blank even after four days of my brain trying to heal my body through sleep, it freaked me out. Was something wrong with my brain, and they didn’t know it?

Lying there with my eyes closed caused a wave of exhaustion to come over me. I tried to fight it, seeing as I had been sleeping for days. I couldn’t avoid the yawn from escaping my mouth.

“Go back to sleep, honey. You need to heal,” my dad said. He spoke softly, and he looked tired too, but his grip on my hand was iron strong.

I groaned. “I don’t want to sleep anymore. All I want is to understand why I’m in a hospital bed.”

My dad sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t concern yourself with that. Just get some sleep, and heal.”

I started getting frustrated. “What do you mean, ‘don’t concern yourself’? Dad, this is me we’re talking about. I have a right to know what happened to myself!”

He stood up, giving my hand a squeeze before he walked towards the door. “I know, but let’s just it take one step at a time, okay? I’m going to get you some food from the cafeteria.” And then he was gone.

“Dad!” I shouted after him, trying to sit up. I curled my shoulders in as the pain throbbed in my ribs again, letting out a noise. David let out a sigh, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Look, Heather. Just try and fall asleep—”

“—God, you too? David, seriously. Why is it such a big deal that no one can tell me? Was it that bad that I will…I’ll be traumatized or something? Just spit it out.”

“No, that’s not it. It’s just…” David looked at me sadly, and at the machines around me that I was connected to, “Everyone wants to see if you can remember on your own, first.”

“Oh.” I realized I should be able to remember. That I was expected to be able to. “What if I can’t?”

He shook his head. “You will.”

I closed my eyes, scrunching them tight, as if this would help me remember what had happened in an instant. It didn’t.

“David, this is ridiculous.” I put my hands over my eyes. “There’s something wrong with me.”

He pulled my hands gently from my face and held them in his. “Heather, nothing is wrong with you. You hurt yourself; you got a concussion to add on to all your broken bones. It might take a while.”

I sighed, laying my head back on the lumpy pillow behind me. I felt as if I was in shock, without understanding why.

“Look, I should probably tell the nurse that you’re…functioning socially.” He smiled at me. “I’ll be back, though,” he added, when I started to protest.

He stood up, and I noticed as he gave the hospital room a quick once over, he looked…guilty.

“David—” I started.

“I’ll be back. I promise.”

He leaned toward me hesitantly, and then bent over me to kiss my forehead.

“Try to fall asleep,” he murmured on his way out.

Once again, I was alone in the room, staring at the wallpaper. How could they expect me to sleep? No matter how tired I was, waking up to all this…my mind wasn’t exactly at ease. But I did try, and after mulling over everything that I could remember, and none of it helped me remember what I was trying to remember, I gave up. It after all, was very tiring. I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and eventually fell asleep.