Shattered on the Ground

“I haven’t been able to contact any immediate family.”

A man was standing beside a woman’s hospital bed. His lips were set into a deep frown and his eyes bore sorrow beyond his years. His body was hunched forward as though years of physical labor had made him so, when in reality it had only taken a few quiet sentences to make him this way. He was wearing a burgundy colored hoody, the hood pulled up nearly covering his short black wavy hair. His hands were stuffed deep in his pocket as blood shot eyes watched the figure within the hospital bed beside him.

“They’re stranded in Maine.” He told the doctor quietly. “Apparently there is a blizzard there that’s delaying all the flights.” The doctor shifted uneasily, “My family was able to contact them briefly. They said you can release any information to the Vest family.”

“I don’t mean to disrespect but, you are-“

“Our families have been friends for generations.” His tone was clipped and raised an octave. “My mother is her godmother for Christ sake! Her twin sister is-” his voice hitched and died in his throat and the doctor watched him solemnly. The man’s stricken eyes fell to the scarily pale and broken body in the hospital bed. “Please, just tell me when will she wake up?”

“It’s different with every patient in this condition. Comatose patients can wake up within a few minutes, days or years.” The doctor stated. “However, if she does not wake within the next few days we will have to insert a feeding tube to sustain her.” The man’s figure seemed to hunch forward farther by the weight that had suddenly been added to his shoulders. The doctor nodded sympathetically before moving through the door and disappearing from sight.

“It’s going to be okay, Reese.” But his lips formed a grimace as he collapsed into the chair beside her bed. His palms pressed hard into his eyes as sobs escaped his lips.

It was not going to be okay and he knew it.

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Something wasn’t right, Reese knew that much. Her body was stiff and a constant monotonous beep was ringing in her ear. Something inside Reese told her not to open her eyes; something told her to continue acting as though she were asleep. She took a mental inventory of herself; yes, something was definitely wrong.
Her body was stiff and she could feel the casts around several parts of her body. She could feel its inflexible material hugging her skin like a vise. But Reese couldn’t feel anything, she couldn’t feel the fingers she tried to move, she couldn’t make her arms move and she found the only pain she could feel, pain she knew she should feel, was resonating from her lungs as she breathed; a searing pain that kept pace with every breath she took.

Reese was numb.

Physically she couldn’t feel a thing.

Against her body’s protest, Reese opened her eyes against blinding lights and the beeping seemed to grow louder in her ear. Her neck ached as she gazed around at her surroundings; a hospital room. Her eyes darted over her body and gray eyes widened in horror at what she saw. Tubes protruded from her arms and wires snaked under her hospital gown and over her chest, thick white casts covered her arm and a brace secured her leg. She didn’t need to investigate to know that her ribs were wrapped tight under her gown. Thick deep lacerations punctured her porcelain legs and arms, some of which had been stitched closed. She knew that these cuts on her exposed arms and legs were not the only ones, glimpses of the night before flashed across her mind and she knew that they ran along her back, down her neck, across her face, and probably her chest. She was covered in cuts and bruises, Reese remembered the bed of glass, and she remembered the river of blood. Her eyes followed the cord that ran from her arms and chest and up to the machines they were attached to; a heart monitor, an IV—her eyes landed on another object that looked similar to the IV but did not contain translucent liquid. This bag contained a crimson red liquid, how much blood had she lost? The machines around her beeped and sighed to their own rhythm and Reese began to panic, causing the heart monitor to mimic her frantic heart; the beeps increasing. So many machines and objects, what did they mean? Was she dying?

A nurse walked dispassionately into the room, a tired frown adored her lips. The expression quickly changed when she noticed Reese was awake. She stuck her head out of the room and called down the hall,

“Someone page Dr. Freedman!” She ordered “Miss. Hanley is awake.” She stepped quickly into the room and was instantly beside Reese. The nurse did not look at Reese, her gaze was captured by the many machines Reese was hooked to, and she fiddled with knobs and wrote down information silently on her clip board. “Dr. Freedman will be in shortly.” She stated before turning and leaving the room quickly, leaving Reese bewildered and alone. A man with sallow skin and a posture that obviously told the world he was depressed, passed her room before backtracking and peering into the depths of the room.

“Reese!” The coffee slipped through the man’s hand and was forgotten on the floor as he rushed to her side. “Reesie,” His eyes scanned over her body, darted over every cut on her body before his sad caring eyes landed on her confused ones.

“Chris,” She coughed, her voice came out hoarse, her tongue thick in her mouth and her throat dry. She had no idea why she was in a hospital, she had no idea what had happened, she was confused and on the verge of panic but she knew this man through any hazy confusion.

“How are you?” His fingers flitted lightly over her body, trying to find an unscathed part of her body touch, his hand rested on her cheek as he brushed caramel hair out of her eyes.

“Miss. Hanley, you’re awake.” A middle aged man with salt and pepper hair entered the room with a pleased smile on his chapped lips. He moved to the machines beside her bed, before turning off one which had been creating a constant sighing sound every so often. His deep brown eyes landed on Reese, his eyes showed care but something hidden also lie there. “How do you feel?” Chris had asked her a similar question only seconds before, but Reese felt there was something distinct about the two inquires; ‘How are you?’ ‘How do you feel?’ these two questions seemed to warrant two different responses. The doctor picked up a small paper Dixie cup and held it to Reese’s dry lips. Her lips parted a minuscule amount to accept the small amount of room temperature water to pass through her parched lips. The doctor returned the cup to the bedside table, both men staring at Reese expectantly.

“I don’t really feel much,” She said honestly.

“Ah, yes, that would be the morphine’s doing.” The doctor nodded. “How does it feel to breathe?”

“It hurts.”

“That is to be expected. You punctured a lung.” The doctor’s slightly carefree composure snapped to a more serious demeanor. “Of all your injuries, that was actually the most problematic. You see when you went through the window you broke several ribs, landing on the pavement drove one of them into your lung. Your injuries are by no means minor but the puncture in your lung allowed blood to fill it.”

“I almost drowned,” vaguely Reese remembered the feeling of chocking.

“Yes,” The doctor nodded, his lips pursed into a thin line. “you’ve also lost a great deal of blood, that too was a great concern. Do you feel light headed at all?” Thinking about it, Reese did feel slightly woozy but she thought it was from the medication.

“A little,” She admitted.

“It’s a side effect of the blood loss,” His pencil tapped against the bag of crimson liquid. “It should go away within a half hour or so and then you won’t need this any longer.” Reese was about to ask what had happened when she recalled a man that had hovered over her, retelling the ordeal; a man had run a red light had crashed into her sister’s car. Ashley car…

“Where is Ashley?” Reese questioned quietly, but dread filled her stomach and her heart beat began to race, sending the heart monitor into a frenzy.

“Miss. Hanley, you must try to settle your heart, I know it is hard but the increase in blood flow could allow several wounds to start bleeding again.” The doctor informed her. Obviously this doctor was not going to be helpful in any area that did not concern Reese’s injuries. Reese’s head snapped to the side, instantly making her light headed, as she stared at Chris. He hadn’t managed to hide the gut wrenching pain that crossed his face before Reese’s eyes landed on him.

“Chris,” She whispered and he stared at her warily. Chris could not vocalize the answers Reese was searching for. He couldn’t, his lips wouldn’t form the words and his throat would close, cutting off any and all words from crossing his lips.

“Miss. Hanley your sister’s injuries were extensive and critical.” The doctor’s voice was grave and dead silence filled the air around them. “There was nothing we could do-“ A loud broken sob slipped through Reese’s lips and Chris collapsed once more into the chair beside her as though this was the first time that he was hearing it as well. “-I’m sorry for your loss.” Chris clutched Reese’s small hand in a vise grip as uncontrollable sobs wracked her body. Chris sat quietly beside her; Reese may have been physically numb but Chris was mentally numb. Quiet tears rolled down his cheek as he sat beside her statue-like. Chris could not offer words of comfort, he could not convey a comforting gesture, all he could do was clutch her hand and let her know that he was there.

“There are several therapy groups the hospital has to offer that may be of some help.” The doctor offered quietly and Chris’s gaze became hard and angry as his head snapped in the doctor’s direction. This was obviously not the first time the doctor had suggested such a thing to Chris. “Right,” the doctor mumbled. “I’ll be back in an hour to take you off the transfusion.” With that he ducked out of the room leaving the two broken souls alone, with nothing but the frantic heart monitor and Reese’s heartbreaking sobs to fill the silent hospital wing.