Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I shake his hand and excuse myself. I don’t know where I’m going to go, but the idea of heading back to my apartment doesn’t sit well with me right now, although I have a strong feeling things aren’t over between Dessie and I just yet.
15
Peyton
The soft sounds of a guitar filters through my mind, but it’s coupled with a strange beeping. The intermittent noise is annoying and ruining the melody. I can’t understand why my dad, Liam or Jimmy would allow this to happen. I want it to stop but can’t seem to move my hand. It feels heavy and my skin feels tight.
In fact, everything feels… off. My head hurts and when I try to touch the pain, neither of my arms will move. My chest burns, and yet I can’t rub the spot either. The more I start to access my body, the more I realize I’m in agony. What the hell did I do?
I struggle to move my fingers, toes… my leg. My right side feels like it’s burning, like someone is jabbing me with a thousand fire rods. Something clicks and the pain subsides. It’s there, but not as forceful as before.
But there’s something in my throat, and it’s cutting off my airway. I can’t swallow. Taking a deep breath is near impossible. Panic ensues as I struggle to get air. I gasp and cry out in pain, except it’s a deep throatily moan that makes me sound like a zombie. I need help but am stuck. I can’t move. I can’t talk. I open my eyes and see the faint outline of a person, but nothing else because tears cloud my vision. I try to scream for help, but I’m only able to groan. The guitar has stopped, but the beeping increases. Someone help me!
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, Peyton.”
Quinn appears almost as if he’s hovering over me. He’s smiling and I think there are tears falling down his cheeks, but I can’t be sure. He gently holds my shoulders down and says, “It’s okay, it’s okay. Just hold tight.” As if repeating himself is reassurance. It’s not.
I do the exact opposite and try to find where the noises are coming from. I look to my left and find a machine, the more I study it, the higher the numbers climb. Paper is printing out of it like crazy and now something is squeezing my arm. Frantically, I look back at Quinn. He’s still smiling and I don’t understand why. Can’t he see that I’m in desperate need of assistance?
“Well, would you look at those beautiful blue eyes,” some lady in a Pepto pink shirt with flowers on it says. She presses a few buttons and thank God the beeping stops but that doesn’t help the fact that I can’t breathe. I grunt, getting her attention and she smiles softly at me. She seems familiar, but I don’t know her. “Okay, Peyton. I know you’re scared, but I need you to relax.”
Easier said than done, lady.
She starts checking my vitals, but I’m still unaware of what’s going on or where I am. And why is Quinn here, but no one else? I look to him for answers, but still he’s smiling, almost like he’s done something bad and is waiting for me to figure it out.
“Peyton, can you hear me okay?”
I nod, and she focuses her attention on Quinn. “I’ve given her a sedative to keep her calm. She’s a little too alert after the traumatic experience she’s had. She’ll start to drift in and out of consciousness. Don’t be alarmed. It’s her body’s way of healing, but until she can sit up, we’re going to leave her tube in a bit longer and let her body stabilize on its own.”
“Okay, I’ll tell my parents when they come back.”
I try to follow the conversation, but everything is fuzzy and out of focus. Once the nurse leaves, I grunt at Quinn to get his attention.
“Hey.” He holds my hand, but not in the way you normally would. He’s slid his under mine. It’s odd, yet comforting. “I know you’re scared, but everything is going to be okay. I texted Mom and Dad, and they’re on their way back.”
I grunt again, which translates to me asking him where am I?
“They’re going to be so happy.”
Another grunt. Why can’t I move my arms? Why can’t I feel my leg? Give me something, Quinn.
Quinn starts playing his guitar. He begins to sing to me softly. This was the sound that woke me up from wherever I was. As much as I want to turn my head toward him, I can’t. My eyes start to droop. I fight to keep them open, but after each blink, it’s harder to open them the next time.
Except, I’m not sleeping. I can hear everything around me. The beeping is back, but so are voices. My parents, Elle and Quinn’s voices are distinct. Others, I’m not so sure about. People come in and out of my room, and for the most part, they seem happy. They’re talking quietly, but I can hear a few of the things they’re saying.