My Mistake, So Predictable

Alex’s POV

I used to think that the scariest thing that had ever happened to me was when I was in third grade and I was obsessed with wanting to be a superhero. For some reason, flying really captivated my attention; but not just flying in a plane would help, I wanted to be one with the sky. Okay, it’s cheesy I know so I give you leave to laugh… Alright, done now? Good. So anyway, one day I decided to climb one of the biggest trees behind my garage and crawl onto the roof with a scrap of fabric tied to my shoulders in the attempt to look like a cape. Somehow I had convinced myself that it would be a fantastic idea to spread my arms and send myself hurtling off of the roof top. For a second after I had thrown myself off it had even felt like I was hovering in the air, almost like I was truly flying. That was the best feeling I’ve ever had- other than meeting my best friends for the first time and when we signed the contract for our record deal. But after that split second of floating- the fleeting feeling of weightlessness, reality hit me almost as fast as the ground did. That was the scariest moment of my life- the moment I realized that the ground was a lot harder than I had anticipated and I was quickly coming down to it. Seconds later the crunching in my right leg brought tears to my eyes and a sharp scream to my mouth as I howled for my parents who banged open the front door and rushed over to me; their eyes fearful as they took my shrieking form in and tried to put two and two together frantically.

But now, that nightmarish moment from my childhood felt like nothing compared to right now as the steady beeping of a heart monitor echoes throughout the startlingly white room I’m sitting in. It’s absolutely terrifying. At any second the beeping could slow and then eventually stop and I can’t take my eyes off of the machine, fearful that if I do it’ll stop its haunting noise. The doctors had assured me that the pale girl lying in front of me was stable and just sleeping off the injuries she had sustained when the out of control fan hit her and when Hailey’s head hit the stage, but I still worry as my hand grasps onto her motionless one.

“How is she?” A soft voice says from behind me and I turn to find Tabitha standing there with a bouquet of multi-colored flowers which she places gently down on the small table next to the dozens of others that Hailey’s friends and family had brought over the past two days she had been in the hospital.

“I don’t know.” I sigh tiredly, turning back to Hailey, “The doctors said she’s fine and could wake up at any moment but she looks so fragile.” I’m not lying. Her usually bright skin is almost as pale as the white pillow case her head is resting on and her body is engulfed by her blanket, making her look small and vulnerable.

“Why don’t you go get something to eat? Maybe she’ll be awake when you get back.” Tabitha says and then I feel her hand rest on my shoulder just as I shake my head.

“I’ll stay.” I murmur, running a thumb back and forth over top of the still hand tucked into mine.

She hums with a note of disagreement but I ignore her until she leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind me.

“I’m so sorry, Hails.” I whisper, reaching my other hand out to push some of her auburn hair away from her eyes. My throat closes and I struggle to swallow around the block, “I was so close, I could have helped you.” My head drops down onto my chest and I force myself to breathe evenly to calm down.

“It’s okay.” A weak voice mumbles and my head shoots up to where the owner of the voice is struggling to sit up, a look of pain on her face when she tries to push herself up with her arms.

“Hails!” I reach out and my hand hovers for a second before I set it on the crook of her elbow, “You shouldn’t be sitting up.” I lecture her gently, tugging her down so she’s lying back down. She looks at me confused but lets me adjust her bed so she can sit up with the bed propping her up instead of herself.

“How are you feeling?” I ask her, resisting the urge to scoop her up into my arms and never let her go again.

“My head hurts, I think.” Her face screws up and then she lifts her hand, brushing it across her forehead where a large bandage hides the deep gash in her skin. “Shit, ow.” She comments.

I chuckle, “Yeah ow, silly. Do you remember what happened at all?”

Her eyes roam up to the ceiling in thought as her thumb runs absentmindedly over the wrap job on her head. “No.” She says after a moment of thinking. “But there’s something else isn’t there?”

I cock my head, “What?”

“I don’t know who you are either.” She says puzzled.