Have We Gone Too Far?

The hospital’s atmosphere was really strange and hard for me to get use to. There were people rushing all around the place, random beeps that seemed to be coming from nowhere and then there were all of the ill people in cubicles around me. I hate it here. It just doesn’t feel safe. This is a place where people are cared for and looked after but for some reason I have a really uneasy feeling about it.

They left me in this cubicle at least ten minutes ago now; it feels like they’re never going to come and sort me out, not that I wouldn't mind not having to see them. To be honest I’d love to just run out of here now; they might not even notice.

In the end I decided to stay put though, mainly because I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. I'm just a normal patient. Just fix me up and let me go.

A nurse walked in and smiled at me, for some reason she seemed nervous though. I guess I just have that kind of effect on people, unless the paramedics have been telling her things about my supposed ‘anger issues’ and ‘lashing out’. I've never even heard of me acting like that. Stupid paramedics thinking they know everything.

“Zacky is it?” she asked me.

“Yeah,” I smiled awkwardly.

“Well hello Zacky, I'm Maria. Could you sit up for me please?” she asked me in a fake sweet voice that really got on my nerves.

I nodded weakly and sat up so she could have a closer look at my head.

“Right I'm just going to clean it up a little,” she smiled as she wiped a cloth thing over my face and washed away some of the blood and dirt. “You're going to need a few stitches I'm afraid.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little then. Her fake sympathetic voice was so funny.

“Sorry,” I whispered. I don’t know why I apologized but I did; I'm a nice guy.

She pulled a confused joke.

“Don't worry about the stitches,” she smiled. Boy she’s dumb. I wasn't laughing about the bloody stitches.

“Oh I won’t,” I said with a stupid grin on my face.

As soon as she walked out to get whatever it was she needed I burst out laughing. People in the rooms around me probably think I'm insane or something. That thought only made me laugh harder. God I'm weird. Maybe the knocks to my head had a bigger effect than first thought.

“Calm down,” I sniggered to myself, taking a deep breath. “That’s better,” I smiled.

It was another ten minutes before the nurse came back in. Why do they take so long to do things? They probably catch up with their mates and have a nice long chat. They come first, right? Wait, isn't it meant to be the patients?

“Try to stay still,” she whispered pulling a concentrated face as she started stitching me up. Another question: What’s with all of the facial expressions?

“Will do,” I smiled.

I'm actually having a bit of fun now; strange. I should be nervous right now, petrified even, but I'm not. I suppose it’s easy to be like this. Forget about everything and only worry when you have to.

“So,” she whispered. “How did this happen?”

Now she’s trying to get information out of me; I knew they’d do this.

“We, er, got a-attacked.”

For a minute there I was wondering where my nerves had gone, they’re back now though. Great!

“Do you remember what they did to you?” she asked but it didn’t look like she really wanted to hear the answer. It was more like she was helping me thing of something to say when I'm asked that again.

“No,” I mumbled.

I know it wasn't they like what she’s saying. It was Derek. And I know that he must have beaten us both up quite a bit, but I don’t know how. The last thing I remember is blowing off Kyle when he tried to say sorry. I should’ve forgiven him, shouldn’t I? He came to say sorry, unlike the others.

Is that why Beth was there? Did she come to say sorry to me? To be honest I have no idea. I don’t even remember her being there; I just know that she must’ve been.

“Do you know if Beth’s okay?” I asked her.

“I'm afraid I can’t say anything to people other than family for now,” she sighed, acting like she was disappointed and sorry about that. Sure she was.

“Can you at least tell me she’s still alive?” I asked her, tearing up a little. “Please?”

“For now, yes she is,” she whispered.

“For now?” I asked.

What did she mean by that? She’s going to die isn't she? If she dies it’ll all be my fault. If I hadn’t run out like that then she wouldn't have come after me. She’d have stayed inside; safe and sound. Who am I kidding; this goes back even further than that. If I hadn’t gotten mixed up with guys like Derek in the first place... Crap... this really is my fault. She could be lying in a room, possibly on her own, dying right now. It’s all because of me.

A few tears dropped down my face and the nurse gave me a soothing look.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s my fault,” I cried.

“What was that Angel?” she asked, looking a little worried for some reason.

“If it wasn't for m-me she w-would be al-right,” I sniffed out, but I was bawling my eyes out now though, so I doubt she understood me.

“What do you mean by if it wasn't for you? Did you hurt her?” she asked me.

“No,” I sniffed.

She smiled lightly at me.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” she whispered.

Good bloody riddance!

As soon as she left I started crying harder, feeling less embarrassed about doing it now that no one was around or could see me.

I might’ve killed my best friend. I know it wasn't me who hurt her but if it wasn't for me the guy who hurt her wouldn't have been anywhere near. We’d both be safe.

Why did I even go with them to that stupid club? Cole would’ve preferred me to stay with him, so why didn’t I? Everyone would’ve been safe if I stayed with Cole. The more I think about it the more my fault it becomes and I hate myself for that.

I bloody hate myself!

“Zack,” the nurse said as she came back into the room. “I'm just letting you know that at some point the police will need to speak to you and ask you some things about what happened.”

“Why?” I sniffed.

“Being attacked like this is a serious offense,” she explained to me. “But they’re going to get to the bottom of it and find out what happened,” she smiled.

No, no, no, no!

“Do they have to?” I whispered.

She nodded weakly at me and then sat at my side.

“Is there anything you want to tell me now?” she asked softly.

For a moment I thought about this. Should I tell her what happened. I mean they’re going to find out eventually, they always do.

“How about I ask you some questions and you can try and remember what happened?” she asked.

I'm starting to think this nurse is quite nice after all. She’s trying to help me. I nodded at her to let her know she could ask me whatever.

“Why were you two outside the club in the first place?” she asked me. “You said you didn’t know earlier but I think you do know, don’t you?” she said softly. “Were you just walking by or, were you inside drinking?”

“Drinking,” I whispered after a pause.

“Both of you?” she asked me.

I shook my head at her.

“Beth didn’t drink,” I sniffed. “She’s pregnant.”

“Are you the dad?” she asked me, going a little off topic.

“No,” I told her. “I don’t know who the dad is,” I lied.

“Okay,” she smiled at me. “Did someone jump out as you were leaving?”

Once again I shook my head.

“I was speaking to this guy and... it just got violent,” I cried. “He said he wanted to kill me,” I whispered.

“And you have no idea who this man was?” she asked.

“No idea,” I repeated. “We spoke a bit inside, then I went out for some air and he followed me.”

That’s pretty much what happened anyway. I can’t tell her everything. I can’t tell anyone everything. No one needs to know everything that happened. No one!

“Was Beth with you when you came out?”

“No, she stayed inside. I don’t know when she came out though,” I sniffed. “I can’t remember.”

“Okay,” she smiled lightly.

“Will I be in trouble for drinking?” I asked her nervously.

“What usually happens in these situations is you’ll be given a caution and they’ll have to get your parents involved,” she explained to me.

Parents? No. They can’t get them involved. For one I haven’t seen them in days; they’ll be mad enough as it is. They’re going to bloody kill me this time!

“Would you like me to call anyone for you?” she asked.

I shook my head at her.

“How old are you Zack?”

“Fifteen,” I told her without thinking.

“I'm afraid if you’re under sixteen I have to contact your parents,” she told me.

“No you don’t,” I hissed. “I don’t need them here.”

My whole body went into panic mode. She’s going to call them even if I tell her not to. That’s her job! As I panicked I felt a pain in my stomach which forced me to clench onto it.

“Are you alright?” she asked me, looking worried.

“No,” I sniffed.

“I'm going to need to check you over,” she told me, edging closer. “You might have more injuries than you’re letting on.”

“No,” I cried. “I'm fine.”

“Don't worry,” she whispered. “Just slip your shirt off and I’ll have a look.”

“No you can’t,” I hissed at her.

If she sees some of the marks on my body! She’ll want to know where they’re from, who did it. She’ll want to know everything! Crap, crap, crap! She’ll already know how old they are. Some of them are from weeks ago so there’s no chance she’ll think I got them last night. What am I going to do?