I don’t think that I was concussed anymore, but that doesn’t mean to say that I hadn’t got a dint in my skull, so it didn’t make me feel any better.
Joe was still there, and perked up when he saw that I was awake.
“How do you feel?” He asked, brushing my hair out of my eyes.
“A bit better.” I managed to say without sounding French, as a result of my dislocated nose.
“Do you want anything to eat?” He asked me, hearing my stomach rumbling.
“Could I try to see if toast would stay down?” I asked, knowing that he knew what I meant.
“We can; one slice or two?” He then asked.
“Just the one please, because I doubt that I’ll even be able to manage that.” I said.
Joe smiled at me then went to tell Dr. McIvor about me being awake again and the food.
When Joe came back in, I asked him if I was allowed to see my face now. So he went out again to see if I was allowed, and came back carrying a mirror.
“Don’t look in it though, and expect to see your normal self – it’s pretty scary if you compare what you looked like last night to now.” He chuckled.
“Okay.” I promised, and then looked in the mirror.
Well it certainly made me jump; I had pictured a small bruise on my cheek bone and my nose to be a little bit squashed, and a small bruise on my forehead, but it was nothing like that – it was a lot worse.
I had a mauve-coloured bruise all across the right-hand-side of my face, it was slightly blacker around my eye, and then I had a massive yellowish-green bruise on my forehead, my nose had bits of crusty dried blood at the base, and was cocked on one side, and then I had dried blood on my lip. There was only one way to describe it: sickening.
I put the mirror down, and Joe could see by my eyes at how shocked I was.
“I told you so.” He said, chuckling at my expression.
“Okay, okay, so it doesn’t look completely normal but it’s nothing out of the ordinary.” I said, trying to reason with myself. Joe just raised one eyebrow.
“Okay, fine then. It’s very different but a bruise, though usually it’s a small one always has its own fixture on my face: general fact.” I added.
“Okay Mrs. Smarty-pants. Get that down you.” He said, pointing to some toast that was now sitting on my bedside table. Somebody must have brought it in whilst I was looking in the mirror.
I had the whole slice, and it felt better knowing that something was inside me.
“Thank you, that feels better.” I said to Joe, not really knowing who to thank.
“It’s okay.” He said, back out of politeness.
“Will I be allowed to go home today, do you think?” I asked him.
“No, they’ve got to put a pot on your leg to let the ligament heal, they’ve got to put a pot on your arm, they’ve got to put something where your rib is supposed to be because that’s not going to grow again, they’ve got to relocate your nose (which is going to be painful), and then they’ve got to put some artificial bone in your skull to fill up the dent.” He told me.
I groaned, and he seemed to look very pitiful; well, he would, because he’s my… boyfriend. Wow that feels a weird word to say: boyfriend.
They did all of that whilst I was under anaesthetic, and then told me that if I suddenly perked up and managed to stay awake, I would be able go home in the evening – if I was lucky, which I evidently am not.
Can I just clarify that it wasn’t a local anaesthetic that I was under, it was the kind where they put you to sleep by putting a needle in your hand and putting the liquid anaesthetise-stuff in that.
I managed to keep food down after I’d come round, and they said that I wasn’t making fast enough progress with coming to, to go home that evening, so I would be able to go home tomorrow morning, providing that I didn’t attempt to get out of bed by myself.
Mum didn’t have time to come and see me that night, or early in the morning, so it was up to me to go home.
Joe stayed with me, and helped me put my things in my bag, and Dr. McIvor helped me go to the toilets to get dressed.
Joe drove me to my house, and I left a note on the kitchen table saying that I was staying at the McIvor's house so that they could keep an eye on me, and that Dr. McIvor was Joe’s Mum so she would be able to do something if I needed a doctor, which I probably wouldn’t.
I was told to stay off school for a week to help my injuries heal, and to stop me from being bullied at how hideous I looked. Joe took my photograph of my face, to save how I looked, because he thought that I might find it funny when I’d fully healed, and I might want to show my friends from school, and I might want to email it to my Dad.
I pointed out that I didn’t actually have any proper friends at school; just Paul, and I doubted that he would want to talk to me after he had found out that I was hanging out with Joe.
Joe and I went to my house to see if any post had come, and only one bit of post had come. It was addressed to me, so I opened it, and it was a ‘get well soon’ card, from everybody in my class, and all my teachers.
I put it on the mantelpiece and then gathered up some underwear, pyjamas and a clean set of clothes into a bag, then took my mobile, my keys, purse, ID, and my bus pass in my handbag.
I then went out to meet Joe, in his car, and he drove me to his house, which was about fifteen minutes drive away, and it was tucked away in a patch of countryside not far from Mattawa.
I was about to get out, with my crutches, but Joe pushed me back down, and said that he had to wait for a text from his Dad.
“There’s going to be no secrecy between us is there?” He asked me, sincerely.
“Nope; no secrecy. Just like I’m going to tell you that I liked you ever since I arrived here, but I didn’t say anything.” I said, blushing. Then a text came through.
“Right. Dad says that I can tell you a certain secret. It might make you want to run away, or scream or it might scare you, but do you promise now that you won’t tell anybody else ever?” He asked me looking deep in my eyes.
“I swear down on my life.” I said, looking into his eyes.
“I honestly don’t know how to tell you, so I’m just going to come out and say it: I’m a vampire.” He said not knowing if I was going to freak out or not.
“Alright, cool.” I said, smiling and shrugging.
“You don’t believe me do you?” He asked, sighing.
“You know what? I do. I honestly do, and I think that it was really brave of you to come out and say it, because that’s a really well, honest thing to do.” I said, not tearing away my gaze.
“You’re honestly okay with it?” He asked me in disbelief.
“Yeah; I know most people would freak out, but I kind of like that idea. It makes sense: your freezing, pale skin, your dark hair, and your perfect features. I honestly should have seen it coming.” I said.