The car beeped constantly but I was too late. The impact hit me like a bus and to be honest the size of the car wasn’t that far off. I was thrown through the air and heard Ali’s voice in my ear once more.
“We’ll stick together…I promise….”
So much for that promise though. There were a few trees that I flew past and I heard lots of noises. And then I hit the ground.
And then, like few times before, there was nothing.
“Her father went first of an overdose, her sister hung herself and her mother died earlier today from alcohol poisoning.”
I heard these words from a comfy, soft but kind of hard bed.
I didn’t actually process many of them. I felt dead. I felt sore but I also felt more alive than I had in ages. I felt free. Though I couldn’t move because I was restrained by…. handcuffs?
I rattled my hands and looked down at them, there were handcuffs holding my hands on either side to the bed. On one wrist there was a cast. There was also a pain in my chest. This wasn’t a pain of losing my twin because I knew all too well what that felt like, but this was a pain as if I had been shot. But I hadn’t been shot. Not that I knew of, that was.
I looked down and saw my chest was taped up tightly. I saw a doctor talking to another white coated lady beside me. They hadn’t noticed that I was awake yet.
“The metal rod narrowly missed her heart, after the 8 hour surgery last night we extracted it but she shouldn’t be awake for another day. She won’t be able to get up until Friday but she can leave then if she would like. I believe she may need mental help also; she was raving about a Black Sabbath song the whole surgery long. And then she started singing the song!” The doctor smiled and the other lady laughed a second too late.
The second lady noticed my open eyes and panicked.
“Uh, I think you should see this Doctor Nefar? Code Red….” She whispered. Doctor Nefar turned, surprised. She was even more surprised when she saw my appraised eyes.
“It’s not just a song.” I hissed. Doctor Nefar’s Indian face was quite alarmed. Then I licked my bone dry lips and looked down at my wrists. “Why am I handcuffed to a bed? Let me go, I have to go to the airport.” I sounded pretty good for someone who had been singing Heaven and Hell for 8 hours.
“LET ME OUT OF HERE YOU BITCH.” I screamed. I pulled against my restraints but the doctors’ just stared at me.
“DON’T TRY TO BE COOL, CALM AND COLLECTED WITH ME. I HAVE TO GO. OR WHEN I AM LET GO, I WILL FIND YOU AND RIP YOU APART, LIMB BY LIMB, BY LIMB.” I snarled and yelled but it made no difference. I was angry with myself. I actually sounded like a crazy person. But what would you expect from someone whose sister, mother and father had committed suicide.
“I think it must be in the genes.” The white coat lady was saying. I screamed.
“Yes.” Nefar whispered, uncertain of her. I tried to arch my back but I could only get so far without the handcuffs pulling on me and the expansion of my chest to begin throbbing painfully.
The white coat gave me a fake smile before pulling a needle filled with some green liquid out of one of her front pockets. She was very careful with it and took it over to the side of my bed where all the machines were. I growled at her and bared my teeth.
“What are you doing?” I jeered, “Can’t handle me?” I laughed but I sounded crazy. Maybe they were lying and the metal rod got me in the head instead of near my heart. She jabbed the needle into my arm and I shrieked and shouted and yelled and roared but nobody came into the room to help me from the two psychopaths trying to incapacitate me.
There was a green glow to the room and instead of shrieking, I settled for bawling my eyes out. I heard music in my ears and the dof-dof sent me off into a peaceful sleep.
I knew that Ali would hate me. But for some reason, I jeered at the thought of her and laughed eerily as I drifted off.