Don't Confuse It, You'll Always Just Be His Prey

There was light every where. It was white and bright. This was different then what I was in before. It wasn't as damped. It wasn't as cramped. I could move, not that I wanted to. Everything still hurt. I still couldn't see out of one of my eyes, and the other, well, it wasn't doing too good either. There was a beeping that was in my head. It was constant, always there, right in my ear.

I wasn't as uncomfortable as I was before. I think I was off of the floor, but I couldn't tell. Being numb has that effect on you. It was strange. I didn't remember going numb. Maybe, when it went dark last time, I did. Not like I knew what happened then.

There were loud noises, yelling, bangs. It sounded like a fight. Nerves kicked in. My heart speed up, so did the beeping. Tings weren't going on like they were supposed to. Everything was changing too fast. I went from dark to light, pain to numb, but I always felt the same. I still felt panicked, afraid.

"You have to let me see him!" Someone yelled from the other end of the door. I was the voice from before, the woman. She was being harsh. I heard this tone before, when she was protecting me. I knew her. I cared about her. But, I couldn't remember her.

"I'm sorry. No one is allowed to enter the room until the doctors give the okay." It was another female voice. She wasn't someone I knew though.

"Then get the fucking doctors." My girl growled. There was a pause. "Now!" She screamed. There was a scramble before I didn't hear anything anymore.

There was quiet for a while. Well, the beeping was still there, but it slowed down again. I tried to open my eyes, but only the semi-blind one worked. I groaned when I did though. There was only white. I couldn't tell any dimensions in the area. Maybe I was in an abyss now, like I was dead. Maybe this was the end. The numb sensation, the light, the beeping. Maybe it was.

I blinked a few more times, and realized I was in a room. So, I wasn't dead yet. There were chairs off to the side, and machines. Machines that I didn't know the purpose of. Lights flashed across them and numbers, too. They seemed important. I was in a bed. That shocked me slightly.

There were cords coming out of my arms. I didn't like this. They were tuck in my skin. I hated this. Get them out. Get them out. Get them out! I wanted them out, but I had no strength to yank them. The beeping got faster, and faster, and faster.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to move. I wanted out.

"Ma'am, you can't go in there!" Someone yelled.

A woman busted through the doors. Her eyes set aflame, and her dark hair flying everywhere. I knew this face. She ran over to me. "Max! Cam down, Max! You're safe now!" She said to me. "These are to help you." She explained, pointing to the wires in my arm. I trusted her.

Someone else busted through the doors, and I jumped. The beeping sped up again. "Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. The doctors have not okayed Max's condition enough for visitors." The woman said. She was wearing green clothing. Scrubs. She was a nurse. I was in the hospital. It was making sense now. "The doctors are on their way, so if you could please leave until then."

She nodded her head, and was about to leave, when I grabbed her arm. She looked back at me, but I couldn't ask her to stay. I didn't have a voice.

"Please let me stay." She asked the nurse.

The nurse looked between us with a sympathetic look. "I suppose exceptions can be made for these . . . special circumstances."

"Thank you." The nurse nodded and left. "How do you feel, Max?" She asked me.

"F-F-Fine." I struggled out. It hurt, but I needed to get over it now.

"Don't lie to me. I've known you long enough to know you're in pain right know." She said, pointing a finger at me.

"I-I-I can-can't re-remember ya-ya-you." I admitted.

She sighed but nodded slightly. "The doctors said you might have some form of amnesia because of head trauma. I'm Linda, your cousin. We're best friends." I could hear the sadness in her voice. her eyes seemed to fog over. She put a hand over her mouth to stop me from seeing her trembling lip. "I was so worried about you." She choked out.

The vague memorization came back. "I-I-I ju-jus-just met ya-your g-g-gir-girlfriend, Lo-Lo-Lo-"

"Logan. That's right." She said with a slight smile.

"Sh-She's n-n-nice." I said, trying to make her feel better. I didn't like seeing her like this, sad.

She nodded. "Yeah, she is."

The doors opened again. This time with a man steeping through in a long white coat. I suppressed a shudder. His dark hair, pale skin, and brown eyes reminded me of him. Linda seemed to notice my discomfort because she gripped my hand. "He won't hurt you." She whispered.

"Mr. Green, nice to see you awake. I'm here to discuss your injuries and treatment options. And, you are?" He said before turning to Linda.

"I'm his cousin." She stated.

"Very well," he said before flipping through the chart in his hand. "Are you comfortable with hearing this, Mr. Green?" He asked me. I nodded my head shortly. Did I want to know what was wrong with me? No, not really. Did I need to know? Yes. "Well, you have multiple shallow step wounds on your torso with extreme heavy bruising from repeated trauma. You have three cracked ribs on the right side, and two cracked and two broken on the left. You have a serious concussion which does have some amnesia as a side effect. Your left eye has swollen shut from one to many blows to it. You were severely dehydrated and you are malnutritioned." He said. I nodded. This as a little too much.

The doors opened again, and I wanted to scream. Can't these people not come barging through my room, scaring the crap out of me? I didn't think it was that difficult of a tack.

This time, though, it was someone I knew, someone I was comfortable with. Ronnie, my Ronnie, walked in with a anxious look, like no one was telling him what was going on. He hated being in the dark, and he hated it when I was hurt. Or, so I thought.

"And, you are?" The doctor asked.

"Ronnie Radke. I'm his mate." He said still looking over at me.

The doctor flipped through his chart to see if what Ronnie said was correct, which it was. "Ah, Mr. Radke. I've been needing to talk to you, and you as well Ms. Doyle." I looked over to see Linda nodded her head. She let go of my hand and walked out with the doctor. Ronnie spared one guilty glance before following after them.

I could hear the murmuring. They were talking, and I knew they were talking about me. What else could they be talking about? I didn't hear yelling, so I didn't think it was bad. But, after a moment when Ronnie and Linda walked back through the room with somber looks on their faces, it probably was.

"So, Mr. Green you have a one hundred percent chance of getting back to complete normal. I'm going to write you a subscription for the pain with another for the concussion and another to strengthen your immune system, so there will be less of a chance for infection on any o the wounds. You'll be put onto a special diet to get your body back to normal. The amnesia will pass in time. Do you have any questions?" He asked. I shook my head. This was straight forward. It was like the last time I went to the doctor. They told me I had issues, and they told me how to fix it. There wasn't any questions about it.

"Very well," he said. "You will be able to leave as soon as we have your paperwork finished. Rest is the best medicine for when you get home, and you should try to stay off your feet for as much as you can." I nodded my head and he left.

"Um, Linda, do you mind?" Ronnie asked. She shook her hand and then left as well. He walked up to the side of the bed. His eyes trailed my body from my cut up arms to my swollen face and back again. The only look he had was a look of guilt, not relief, not hopeful, just guilt. He wasn't the one who smacked me around, but I'm sure he felt like it.

"H-H-How l-lon-long wa-was I-I g-g-gone?" I asked. His eyes went back to my face then.

"Five days, ten hours, and thirty-six minutes." He said quietly. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Wh-Why?" He was too sad. I was safe. I was here. I'm okay. He should be happy.

He took a deep and reached up to lightly to touch a strand of my hair. "This is all my fault. I should have listened to you when you told me about her. I should have listened to her ramblings about nothing. I shouldn't have left you."

I sighed. That's what he's worried about? Nonsense? "It is-isn't ya-your f-fault."

"Yes it is. It's my fault, and you're hurt. And, I-I didn't know what to do, and . . and-"

"R-Ronnie, I-I'm okay. C-Can we g-go home n-now? I-I d-don't like th-this pl-place." I asked.

He nodded. "I'll get the paperwork, and we'll go." I nodded this time.

He walked out of the room, and I took a deep, painful breath. I had to act strong. I had to pretend like this didn't faze me. That since it was over, I didn't care anymore. That wasn't true though. I wasn't okay. I wasn't fine. I wasn't strong.

In reality, I'm terrified.