Save Me From My Nightmare

A gasp of air was pulled kicking and screaming into my lungs like a naughty toddler, having to be forced down my throat as I lunged from the position I was in; yet soon regretting the action as pain throbbed in my stomach. Bleeping machines surrounded me like a crowd of people, staring at me weirdly as I looked nervously around the white wash room. Blinds had been pulled down to hide the sunlight, the shadow of a bird singing on the window-ledge reminding that I was still alive. My hair stunk of disinfectant, my body cloaked in a long hospital gown that tied up at the back with the knots digging mercilessly into my aching back. Raw agony inflicted itself on my abdomen, burning like a roaring fire as I pressed my hands there to see if there was something there.

The fabric of a bandage could be felt with my good hand and a fresh material was around my burnt hand. I lifted my hand from my stomach and moved some hair from my face, lying back down on the bed and shutting my eyes like a child. If I shut them for long enough, everything would disappear and I would be back home with Pippa and Molly watching a film and these whole three years would all have been a bad dream. I’ve probably just tripped and fallen down the stairs, ending up in a coma and dreaming this whole thing up. Please wake up. Come on Keeley, where’s your magical fairy dust when you fucking need it?

There was a voice being cleared across the room, causing me to peek my eyes open. A tall man with surgical green scrubs on smiled reassuringly, his hair concealed by a bandana that he slipped from his blonde head slowly and clutched to his chest as if he had bad news to tell me. He opened his mouth for a moment, but shut it again as the words wouldn’t come out. ‘I know what you’re trying to say,’ I spoke in a quiet voice that sounded raspy even to me. ‘I’ve just woken from a coma and I fell down the stairs and the whole thing with Iain shooting me and shit is all some weird dream because Pippa made me eat cheese which gives me hallucinations when I sleep?’ The surgeon chuckled quietly and shook his head a no, a sombre look taking over his facial expression.

‘No. I’m afraid to say, it’s worse. Everything wasn’t a dream. We managed to dislodge the bullet from your stomach, and skin graft the tissue on your hand with skin from your leg, but you won’t be able to feel anything or have any use of it for a long time. But, the bullet that lodged in your stomach hit your womb, too,’ the doctor looked down at the floor for a moment. I knew he was going to say I’d never have kids; it wasn’t going to be such a big blow as he thought, but I’ll let him have his moment. ‘I’m afraid we couldn’t save your baby.’ I stared at him as if he was totally insane and belonged in an asylum. There was a baby in there? A living child in my stomach growing up?

‘I-I was pregnant?’ I whispered, looking down at the flat stomach covered by sheets and a hospital robe. The surgeon nodded, taking a seat at the end of the bed as he explained that it was really small and that it probably wouldn’t have lived even if it was born. There was a hole in its heart due to my being thrown around. Apparently I was around two month pregnant, which obviously meant it was either Zacky’s child or Iain’s. But I wouldn’t believe that it was Iain, I would allow myself to think that there was actually something of him growing inside of my stomach. That was just… blood curdlingly spine shuddering. ‘Are Joel and River here? I really want to see them.’ The surgeon said that the two were in Nevada, setting up another club over there but had been informed of the bad news.

I gulped, licking my lips for a moment as I tried to debate on who out of my friends and family I needed here. Molly and Pippa popped into my mind, but I was sure they wouldn’t want to talk to me after I lied to them blatantly about the abuse. ‘I suggest you just get some rest. The surgery and anaesthetic took a lot out of you and you had a lot of nightmares. You’ve been drugged quite heavily with pain relief so I don’t think seeing someone is the best option right now. But, if you like, your mother is here in the relative’s room eager to see you.’ I shook my head a no, not wanting to see anyone after thinking about it. The surgeon sucked his lips in awkwardly, patting my leg gently and telling me he’d be in to see me later as he exited the room.

Staring blankly up at the ceiling, I tried to imagine myself pregnant. Would I ever be able to have kids again, or was that some freak miracle that would never happen to me again? Turning onto my side as best I could, I watched the bird on the window ledge with curiosity. My mind began to wander away from me. What I was thinking was irrelevant to the bird, or the burning in my stomach, or anything to do with the whole situation I was in. I was in fact wandering what colour I should paint my bedroom and what colour sheets I would put on the bed. I was thinking about how much laundry I had to get done. I was thinking of the mound of ironing that needed to get done and the amount of the work I needed to get done on my draft for the sequel of my book.

And yet, after letting my mind wander for a good half hour, reality still bit me on the ass.