Can't Rain All The Time

A sudden ache pulsed throughout my body, stopping at my head as this newly formed pain only seemed to get worse.

I attempted to open my eyes, struggling at first, then broke through the invisible, nonexistent glue that seemed to want to keep my eyes shut with exceptionally laborious effort; it only made the awful pang in my head more evident.

At first, I could only see a blurred image of my surroundings. Then, with time, and countless blinks of my weak eyes, my vision became clear, and a lump formed in my suddenly dry throat.

By simply scanning my eyes over the room I was in, I was immediately aware of my location. The gauze wrapped head, ghastly sick smell contaminating my breathing air, the many tubes connected to me, uncomfortable bed, repulsively plain walls, and annoying sound of the beeping machines and monitors only made it more obvious to me.

And, though I should have been worried about why I was currently sat in a hospital, what could have possibly happened to put me here and why my memory was shying away from it, my thoughts helplessly strayed to Christian. Why wasn't he, despite the condition I was in and the numerous tubes connected to me and possibly keeping my alive, snuggling up next to me and explaining to me what the hell I was doing in a hospital and telling me everything was going to be okay?

An unexpected voice filled my ears, slicing through the silent atmosphere, startling me.

It wasn't the voice I wanted to hear. The voice I had become dependent on making me happy these last few months.

"Oh sweetie, you're up. I'm Jill. How are you feeling, hun?" a nurse, probably in her late thirties, asked me, seeming slightly surprised.

I couldn't speak at first. My throat was so dry, my voice strained when I tried to use it. When was the last time I had actually spoken? I tried to recall, but the farthest back I could remember was to the 'surprise' show Christian was taking me to, how ever long ago that was.

"Tired. My head hurts," I complained childishly, watching as the nurse, Jill, smiled warmly and began flipping through a folder of papers she'd retrieved from a bin at the end of my bed.

"Yes, but the worst of the pain should only last a few more days.” Looking back at this statement now, I hadn’t realized then just how wrong this lady was. That this pain wouldn’t pass after a couple days. “Can you remember what happened to you?" she asked in a professional yet soothing voice.

I thought back for a minute, trying to revoke any information that could possibly help one of us, unless she already knew what happened to me. In which case she just wanted to play mean mind games with me, the clueless Irish girl, who so desperately wanted the most important person of her being here with her, telling this mean nurse to leave her the hell alone and then make clear to her the reasons for her being here in his melodic voice - the same one she had made fun of many a time.

Suddenly, I could care less why I was here. All I wanted to know was where Christian was. And, though my thoughts were a huge jumble inside my aching head, my voice still as strained as before, I managed to get out my most important question.

"Christian." I was abruptly out of breath. I guess that's what happens when you forget to breathe. I took in a big gulp of the surely contaminated air before continuing. "Do you know where Christian is?"

Her honey colored eyes became sympathetic.

I, being my usual pessimistic self - Christian hadn't changed me completely - immediately thought the worst of this diminutive gesture.

My creative mind was coming up with the most absurdly irrational excuses for why he wasn't here. But, before I could allow myself to actually believe them, I pushed them to the back of my head, silently scolding myself for thinking such things, and waited expectantly for her to answer me verbally.

"Mr. Madsen is down the hall," she replied somewhat uneasily.

So he's here?

"Can you send him in, please?" I asked eagerly, knowing his smile would instantly remove the pounding in my head, though the pounding of my heart would become more erratic. That one I could deal with though.

"I'd like to talk to him." And hold him, and listen to his sweet voice, and snuggle with him, and kiss him.

"Sweetie," she started, coming to my side and gently holding my hand in hers, being careful not to interfere with the tubes there, "I'm afraid Mr. Madsen is in worse condition than you are."

My heart sank. He was doing worse than me?

Knowing someone as perfect and loving as him was in pain more amiss than how I felt now was actually causing me more physical pain.

"Wh-what happened?"

I bit my lip nervously, a habit I'd picked up from Christian, positive I didn't actually want to know.

"Last week, you and Mr. Madsenwere in a car accident. . .Do you not remember?" She furrowed her eyebrows, watching me slowly shake my head as I took everything in. "Well, that's understandable, I suppose. Looking at the cause of your last visit here, I'm not surprised your memory isn't at it's best."

But I wasn't listening anymore. I was stuck on her previous response.

Her brief statement, intentional or not, had cleared so many things up for me within the few seconds it took her to actually say it.

First, a car accident had put me here.

Second, I had been unconscious for a week.

And third, the love of my life was also present in this crash, thus being why he wasn't lying here next to me as I wished he was.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Ha, how could she even ask me that? Ridiculous.

Once again, I shook my head, still at a loss for words for the moment.

I stared out the window positioned in the wall to my left, not really seeing anything there aside from the sun's bright rays that shone through, only just aware of the fact that the cruel nurse Jill was injecting me with some fluid.

"You just need some sleep. Dr. Burnet will speak to you when you wake up."

I couldn't object. I couldn't find enough energy to object. Whatever this woman injected me with, it sure was working. My eyelids soon dropped, darkness immediately taking over me.