Road Trip

I woke up to beeping machines and a pounding headache. Sunlight was pouring into the hospital room I was in, and I knew it must be the early morning hours because the lights in this particular room weren't on yet. I raised a hand to my head and shifted to sit up, feeling sore in my lower region. Then I remembered.
I remembered everything. James. His funeral was in a couple days. Running away. The truck driver. The truck stop. The rape. The voices. By this time, the room was spinning, air was becoming harder to breathe and I was aware of hyperventilating. A cool hand placed itself on my shoulder and I turned to look at the face staring back at me, panicking.
"Hey," he said soothingly, "Everything is alright.. you got hit in the head, and my friends and I here helped you... Now just breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. Slowly." I listened to him and began to feel a bit better, listening to him introduce his friends. It still hadn't even hit me that there were others in the room until they all said hi.
"This is Jaime, Mike, and Tony. And I'm Vic. Vic Fuentes." If my heart wasn't freaking out at the moment, I'm pretty sure it would have stopped right then and there. THAT was why the voices were familiar. I hadn't even looked at any of their faces.
"P-Pierce the Veil," was all I managed to say.
"Hey look, it's a fan!" Jaime exclaimed, clearly excited that they didn't have to explain about the band they were in when they had to leave.
"James." For some reason, I could only get small fragments of my words out; later, we would find out that since I was hit so hard with the shovel, that my speech-creating part of my head couldn't form the organized sentences I was so great at.
"No.. I'm Jaime. Like... Hi-me--"
"No. Boyfriend was James."
They asked me some questions before the doctor came in and started to explain my injuries to me and how I could be taken home this afternoon with very little physical activity due to a mild concussion. I laughed. I had to continue walking down to North Carolina so I could get to James' funeral in time. I was all he had in life, besides his Mom. And I knew that if I didn't get there in time, I would never forgive myself. After the doctor left the room, I explained my situation as accurately as I could; sometimes there was an interruption or two from Jaime or Mike, but they seemed to understand why I had to get going.
"Well," Tony began, "Good thing our tour just ended then. Looks like we're bringing you to North Carolina." I blinked at him in shock.
"Don't have to do that--" I tried. But it was too late, the guys were deadset on this new plan, and I was NOT being left alone.