Like No Other

I opened my eyes, my vision blurry. I blinked trying to clear it but my eyes were so dry. I felt groggy, like I hadn’t slept in a few days. There was a man standing above me, his white hair sticking out of a green cap. He was wearing a white mask. His eyes, a cold blue color around small black pupils and dark rings underneath, were studying my face. I could hear he was saying something, asking me a question I didn’t understand, or perhaps just couldn’t process in my state of mind. When I opened my mouth I found I couldn’t speak. I looked around the room, blinking again looking for Mike and Gabby.
Where are they? I tried to ask again.
There were three or four other masked faces around me dressed in green, their sexes still unknown. I closed my eyes trying to remember what had happened to me, but there were noises all around me, alarms and beeps. I couldn’t think. I felt sweat on my forehead. It trickled down in my eyes, stinging them slightly.
I tried to move my arms and legs but it ached to do so. I heard myself moan. I ached everywhere. I thought I heard the word “morphine” but I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t.
I found out later that the reason I was unable to talk was because they had inserted a tube down my throat as well as one in my chest. The day they removed my tubes they also moved me to a different room. I woke up to find my mom at my side, grabbing my hand, tears rolling down her face. She was on the phone, talking quietly into it. When she saw that I had opened my eyes she let out a sigh of relief.
“Oh thank God,” she squeezed my hand. “She’s up, call me when you land.”
A nurse walked by the room. My mom called out to her, telling her that I was awake. The nurse said she’d send someone to assist me soon.
“Oh honey,” my mom said, turning back to me and rubbing my face gently. I looked around but it was only me and her in the room.
“Where’s dad?” I tried to ask her but my voice just croaked. I cleared my throat and tried again. It didn’t sound at all like what I was trying to say but she understood.
“He’s on a plane heading back home now.” Then I remembered that dad was away on an important business trip.
I wanted to ask my mom so many questions. Where’s Mike? Where’s Gabby? What happened? How long had I been in here? But I was just so tired. Then the doctor who I remembered standing over me walked in the room. He ditched the green scrubs for a white lab coat. He was holding a clip board looking through several papers.
“Well Miss Reynolds, you’ve been through quite a collision, haven’t you?” he asked me. Instead of responding verbally, I just nodded my head.
“Okay. I’m Dr. Cooper. Cassie, you were in a car accident with your friends Michael Porter and Gabby Hernandez. Do you remember that?”
I shook my head no. “Where are they?” I barely got out.
But he ignored my question, pretending I hadn’t even said anything.
“You have suffered very significant injuries. We had to resuscitate you two times. I’d say you’re very lucky to have survived. You had a severe concussion which we could do nothing for considering you also had broken five ribs, one of which caused a pneumothorax, which means a punctured lung, so we had to put in a chest tube as well as a feeding tube. You also have several bruises and laceration all over your entire body,” he coughed once, “Mrs. Reynolds, can I speak to you outside?”
They walked out. Now it was only me in this empty room with nothing but a big black beeping machine beside me. I looked around the room. There was a small TV in a cubby hole in the corner. There was a tan leather chair and a circular table also and that was the only furniture. The table was filled with flowers and cards.
I saw my mom out blind of the window. Whatever Dr. Cooper had told her had made her pull her hand up to her mouth. She started crying again, shaking her head. That was my answer. My friends were dead. A nurse came in then and asked if I was in any pain. I almost laughed at that. I told her yes and she injected me with this liquid substance. I could feel the darkness coming back to me before the first tear had escaped my eyes and I embraced it.