Rollercoaster
Chapter 20
Aimee's POV
"Ahh. You're hurting my hand!" I yelled.
"Well it's obviously gonna hurt if you got glass in it!" The nurse spat back at me, continuing to tightly wrap the white bandage around my hand.
I tried to ignore the pain and looked up at Frank. His warm hand had been holding my free one since he found me in the bathroom. His face had remained expressionless though, not looking at anything but the wall. From time to time he would squeeze it reasurringly, probably too scared to do anything else.
Frank's POV
"Ahh. You're hurting my hand!" Aimee yelled.
"Well it's obviously gonna hurt if you got glass in it!" The nurse spat back, continuing to wrap bandage.
I had half a mind to turn round and slap that woman. She was just like any other nurse. They put on that fake smile and only put up with you until they get paid. She had no idea what Aimee had been going through.
I knew Aimee was in pain. Heck, she was probably more scared than I could even imagine. But I couldn't look at her. If I did, I knew I would end up asking her why the hell she did it and what the hell was going through her mind. But that would make her worse, I only wanted her to get better.
Instead, I just focused on the wall. How exciting, a white wall.
Finally, the nurse finished with the bandage. She went over to a drawer and pulled it open. From it, she took out a bright yellow sling and helped Aimee with it. Having dealt with us, she left, not saying anything.
"Eww, I don't think yellow's my colour." She laughed and looked at me.
I forced a smile.
"Better be heading off then." I spoke up. I didn't wanna sound like I didn't care, but it's the only thing that came into my mind.
"Yeah, I guess so," She said and hopped off the table.
The car journey was long and awkward. Nothing was said, so I flicked on the radio. I'm Not Okay blasted.
"Ironic, huh?" I laughed nervously before turning the radio off again. I wasn't really in the mood for one of our songs.
A red light flashed from the set of traffic lights above us. I glanced over at Aimee. Her head rested against the window. I wasn't sure if she was asleep or not, but I thought it would be best just to leave her the way she was.
We finally reached the all too familiar driveway. We had been staying at Gerard's now for about a month or so. He thought it was a good idea because it meant we could practise new songs in his basement, as well as keeping an eye on Aimee.
"We're here, Aimee," I whispered over.
She slowly lifted her head and looked out the window before trying to undo her seatbelt, with much difficulty because of her sling. I quickly got out of the car and helped her out. Without talking, she ran up to her room.
Entering the quiet house, I threw the keys on the table where the phone sat.
"Well?" Gerard entered from the kitchen, holding a cup of coffee.
I sighed and we made our way into the lounge.
After spending the last half hour talking to Gerard about Aimee, I was still clueless about what to do.
Many sips of coffee came from Gerard, but no answers. He finally piped up, noticing I had nothing else to say.
"Honestly," He began, "I think you should bring her back home."
"Ahh. You're hurting my hand!" I yelled.
"Well it's obviously gonna hurt if you got glass in it!" The nurse spat back at me, continuing to tightly wrap the white bandage around my hand.
I tried to ignore the pain and looked up at Frank. His warm hand had been holding my free one since he found me in the bathroom. His face had remained expressionless though, not looking at anything but the wall. From time to time he would squeeze it reasurringly, probably too scared to do anything else.
Frank's POV
"Ahh. You're hurting my hand!" Aimee yelled.
"Well it's obviously gonna hurt if you got glass in it!" The nurse spat back, continuing to wrap bandage.
I had half a mind to turn round and slap that woman. She was just like any other nurse. They put on that fake smile and only put up with you until they get paid. She had no idea what Aimee had been going through.
I knew Aimee was in pain. Heck, she was probably more scared than I could even imagine. But I couldn't look at her. If I did, I knew I would end up asking her why the hell she did it and what the hell was going through her mind. But that would make her worse, I only wanted her to get better.
Instead, I just focused on the wall. How exciting, a white wall.
Finally, the nurse finished with the bandage. She went over to a drawer and pulled it open. From it, she took out a bright yellow sling and helped Aimee with it. Having dealt with us, she left, not saying anything.
"Eww, I don't think yellow's my colour." She laughed and looked at me.
I forced a smile.
"Better be heading off then." I spoke up. I didn't wanna sound like I didn't care, but it's the only thing that came into my mind.
"Yeah, I guess so," She said and hopped off the table.
The car journey was long and awkward. Nothing was said, so I flicked on the radio. I'm Not Okay blasted.
"Ironic, huh?" I laughed nervously before turning the radio off again. I wasn't really in the mood for one of our songs.
A red light flashed from the set of traffic lights above us. I glanced over at Aimee. Her head rested against the window. I wasn't sure if she was asleep or not, but I thought it would be best just to leave her the way she was.
We finally reached the all too familiar driveway. We had been staying at Gerard's now for about a month or so. He thought it was a good idea because it meant we could practise new songs in his basement, as well as keeping an eye on Aimee.
"We're here, Aimee," I whispered over.
She slowly lifted her head and looked out the window before trying to undo her seatbelt, with much difficulty because of her sling. I quickly got out of the car and helped her out. Without talking, she ran up to her room.
Entering the quiet house, I threw the keys on the table where the phone sat.
"Well?" Gerard entered from the kitchen, holding a cup of coffee.
I sighed and we made our way into the lounge.
After spending the last half hour talking to Gerard about Aimee, I was still clueless about what to do.
Many sips of coffee came from Gerard, but no answers. He finally piped up, noticing I had nothing else to say.
"Honestly," He began, "I think you should bring her back home."