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saddenedsoul

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I could barely move and I was in agony, but I had survived. The train had crippled the entire left hand side of my body. I couldn't feel or move my left arm or left leg. I could feel the limbs on the right side of my body, but the most I could manage was to curl my toes and twitch my fingers.

Speech was another issue. The doctor had left the room, but the kind-faced nurse was waiting with me until my parents got here. She could sense that I was trying to move something, anything really.

"Just relax Xen, you're in no state to exert yourself just yet. Though I'm sure you'll be up and at them in no time!" she told me. I blinked and rolled my eyes. How could I ever recover from this? 

I tried to say something to her, but a rough flow of babbling was all I could muster. I wanted to ask her how long I'd been in a coma. Was Derrek ok? What had happened to me exactly? Before I could frustrate myself even more with the tirade of questions I couldn't even ask, my parents arrived.

Mum was at the door, her face was pale. But it broke into the widest, most genuine grin that I'd ever seen on her face. She was at my bedside in one swift movement, her arms flung over me and her face buried into my shoulder. She was crying.

Dad was more reserved, but only slightly. He was at the other side of my bed, tears streaming down his cheeks. A rare smile lit up his face. I wanted to talk to them, but I couldn't. Mum straightened up and looked down over me.

"Thank god you made it Xen! I was so so worried." she sobbed. "I don't know what I'd have done if I lost you too."

"Vivian!" my father gasped. But it was too late. I knew it now, finally. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to imagine the guilt that would now have replaced mums radiant grin. But I cried. Silently, tears were rolling down my cheeks. Sobs were building up inside me, but they couldn't escape. Every part of me was writhing in grief, but I couldn't move. I just laid there, still, through the most tragic episode of my life.

"Xen," mum whispered. "We'll talk about it all later, about everything. But right now we need to focus on getting you better. Do you understand. I need you to get better Xen. I need you back."

I opened my eyes to look up at her, the tears made the scene blurry but I could see a fresh torrent of tears flowing down each of her cheeks. I tried to say 'ok'. I wanted to let her see that I did understand. I managed a small, stiff nod.

The following days were a blur. I was only conscious for parts of it. Which was weird, considering I found out from the doctor that I had been in the coma for 34 days. Which meant that the holidays were over and school was back on, it also meant that I'd missed 4 episodes of each of my favourite shows. But most of all, it also meant that I had missed my brothers funeral.

I still couldn't move the left side of my body, but I could make small movements with my right side. And I had at least half of the mobility in my head that I had before the crash. But most of all, I had learnt to talk in sentences again.

No less than every person in my grade and about three quarters of the rest of the school had visited me. Including the staff, my heart sped up when Miss Perrini came by with a box of chocolates for me. The traitorous heart monitor went berserk when she entered, but she at least pretended not to notice. She also brought in a heap of Maths and Geography work in for me, as a joke. But I asked her to leave it for when I could write again. The hospital was a very boring place after all.

Exactly 48 days after the accident, I got out of the bed for the first time. I underwent countless operations on my left arm and leg in the city, where I stayed for a further two weeks. The doctors had stuck so many screws and pins in there that I was surprised that they didn't sound like a tool box when I moved them.

Once I returned back home, the healing process was long and hard. I had physiotherapy every day, it seemed that everyone who worked in the small hospital revolved around me, there wasn't much else to do. Nurses waited on me 24/7, doctors would check in unnecessarily using any excuse and between Bianca, Mike, Jake, Isabelle and my parents, I was rarely alone.

Isabelle stayed for a whole day. I told her that I heard her reading to me, she was so embarrassed but so amazed and excited. Mike and Jake were overjoyed at my being awake, they made it seem like I was just gone for a while and took my sweet time coming back. Bianca just cried and hugged me. We talked for ages. I wasn't sure that we'd still be together, but she assured me that we were.

It was 94 days since the accident when I went back home. Mum and dad had been living in it while I was in hospital. I was still in a wheelchair, but could walk... kinda, with crutches. I was still on high dosages on pain killers as well and when I didn't have those I was in severe pain. But I was so so glad to be out of hospital, at home, still recovering but with newfound optimism and strength.

One morning I awoke to the sound of my wardrobe being opened. Mum was rustling through it, taking out my shirts and packing them neatly into a large suitcase.

"What are you doing?" I asked, barely awake. What this could mean had not yet registered in my head.

"Packing your things for you dear, we're leaving back for Miami in a couple days and I can't stand leaving things to the last minute." she said offhandedly, folding another shirt on her lap.

"But why are you packing my things?" I was genuinely puzzled.

"Huh? Obviously you have to move back with us..."

No.