Secrets

I wake up in an unfamiliar room and blink a couple times, my eyes struggling to adjust to the brightness that surrounds me. The sunlight pouring through the windows seems to be bouncing off the walls, making the intensity too much for my eyes to handle.

I groan and reach up to rub my eye, but stop when I feel a shooting pain run through my torso. For almost a minute, I do nothing but stay completely still and try not to breathe, waiting for the searing sensation to pass.

After it fades, I settle back into my original position and do everything I can to keep from moving. I breathe very shallow breaths and try to keep as much time between them as possible.

The door opens suddenly, and I startle, trying to ignore the fire that spreads throughout my stomach so I don’t look like a wimp in front of the cute little nurse that’s just walked in.

“Good morning, Harry,” she greets cheerily, a wide smile on her face. “How are you today?”

I stare at her, wondering why the first words out of her mouth weren’t what my problems are. “Am I going to die?” I ask point-blank.

She stops for a second, taken completely off-guard by how blatant I was. “Sure you will,” she tells me without looking over.

“I know that I’m going to die eventually,” I respond, rolling my eyes, “but I meant from my injuries.”

She sighs before finally turning to me, putting down the glass and pitcher of water on the table next to me. “I’m not supposed to be telling you this, but I’ll say it anyway. You’re fine. Thankfully, the knife didn’t puncture any of your organs or any arteries. A minor surgery fixed all the damage. You’re going to be okay.”

A grin breaks out across my face, but it doesn’t last long. “How long am I going to have to stay here?”

Her non-answer should be answer enough. She just smiles at me, says, “I’ll be back to bring you your breakfast in a little bit,” and leaves. That’s it.

I groan and mumble to myself for a bit.

It doesn’t take long for me to start to get bored. To pass the time, I take a few deep breaths, gauging how much it hurts. I find out that I really can’t breathe that deeply without unbearable pain. Too bad I can’t live without breathing.

“HARRY!” Louis’ voice exclaims from the door.

I’m so relaxed that the sudden noise doesn’t even scare me. I simply turn my head to face him and say, “Hey” to the entire group that’s standing there.

Never before in my life have I seen a face as grim and sad as Molly’s. I can tell that she’s trying to put on a brave face, to smile for me, but I can tell that she’s dying on the inside.

More than anything, I want to reach out to her, to assure her that everything’s okay. But I know that my whole body is confined, that no matter how much I want to do something, I won’t be able to. The pain will be too much.

This must be what it feels like to be paralyzed.

“It’s okay, Molly,” is what I settle for instead.

She finally looks at me, and I can see that her eyes are swimming in tears. I must look like a blob of Harry-ness to her.

“Come here,” I whisper, and the boys pretend to have a conversation amongst themselves to give the two of us the illusion of privacy.

Molly hesitates before walking over, perching herself on the edge of the bed. The motion sends a stabbing feeling through my body, but I make an effort not to show the pain on my face. After all, she feels badly enough without knowing that she hurt me.

“This isn’t your fault,” I tell her, staring at her with as much intensity as I can muster. My hand is aching to touch her face, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

She closes her eyes, a couple of tears spilling down her cheeks, before she looks away.

I sigh, wondering what I can do to make her believe me.

But for once, I don’t have the right words to say.

So I stay silent, thinking for the proper way to phrase it, hoping that she’ll come to the realization on her own.