I stare at the ceiling, searching for the little black dots and joining them together. So far the picture resembles something along the line of a blob. I force myself to focus on the dots, staring so hard with my one eye that a searing pain drills through my head. But I continue to stare, letting the torturous throbbing do its job. Any other day I would’ve taken a Panadol as soon as I feel a hint of a headache, but today isn’t any other day. And it is far better to stare at the ceiling and let the pain split my head open, than to glance at anything else and let that pain split my heart.
A cold hand touches Tilly’s arm. It runs up and down her limb, caressing the bruises and cuts. Grudgingly she tries to pull herself out of the delirium that consumes her entire being, just to open her eyes and see Evan. She could feel Evan just by his touch, the soft fingers, the way they run up her arm. But a fuzzy feeling clouds her mind, making it so hard to think. She tries to tell her limbs to tense, to move in any way. But her muscles are too weak, too full of anaesthetics, not to say that she wouldn’t have been able to move anyway due to the ridiculous amount of tubes and things attached to her.
“Tilly?” Evan’s voice comes from far away.
She tries to twitch her finger, just to show him she’s listening, but even that proves too difficult for Tilly. The fuzzy feeling becomes stronger in her mind, enveloping all thoughts. She retreats back to unconsciousness, spared from all the horrid thoughts and feelings that would’ve drowned her had she stayed awake for longer.
It’s dark. The lone nightlight in the corner of the ward gives off a golden glow. Eyelids fluttering open, Tilly becomes truly conscious for the first time since the accident. Scanning her surroundings, she sees the black outlines of a typical hospital ward, with silhouettes of machines and visiting chairs. A strong smell of disinfectant confirms that she is indeed in a hospital. God I hate that smell.
A dull pain from her abdomen draws Tilly’s attention to her own body. She could feel the sharp ache from her wrists, both broken. Her pelvis feels so strange, compressed and broken at the same time. Her right leg seems ridiculously big, plastered in a heavy cast and propped up on a pile of pillows. My right leg… I haven’t been able to see my legs lying down for the past month or so… oh…
She squeezes her eyes shut, forbidding herself to glance down at her lower body again. This is a nightmare. This is just a nightmare. I am fine. She’s fine too. This is just a nightmare. But even with her eyes shut, she could still feel the hollowness of her heart. She could acutely feel the uncomfortable position that she is in, neck stiff and legs numb. She could feel the faint throbbing of her head, the wild beats of her heart. She could still feel the nothingness that lies on her stomach, in the place of her pregnant belly.