Everything is screaming inside me as I feel a pair of arms lift me off the pavement. I want to protest, to tell him to just leave me, to let me die. But when I open my mouth just a slight moan escapes my lips. For a moment, I wonder if Sam’s the one carrying me. If I failed to escape after all of this, and he’s just come to take me back home. But I’m starting to hear their voices around me, soft and gentle, not drunken and angry like Sam’s would be.

I try with every ounce of my being to open my eyes. When I do, the first thing I see is the night sky, thousands and thousands of stars are staring back at me. It’s nice, really, my body relaxes again. But then something blocks my view. Someone’s looking down at me, his wide eyes looking worried. His dark hair is falling in his face. And that’s when I squeeze my eyes shut once more, and everything becomes a shade clearer. A sharp pain shoots through my side and my head starts throbbing.

I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe. This isn’t the peaceful death I pictured as I slowly laid at the bottom of my pool. This death was real, painful.

“Help,” was all I could manage to croak out. I see his bright eyes fall on mine again. He’s coiling my body into his chest, and he’s trying to sooth me with his words.

I can barely hear him telling me everything will be okay. My ears feel like they’re filling up with water, I’m sinking. My head is spinning. If I could just sleep, maybe everything will go away. But every time I try to rest, I’m shaken awake by the boy with the curly, long hair.

“Just look at me, keep looking at me,” I hear him say. Soon the stars disappear and are replaced by a dark gray roof of a car. More voices fill the air, but all I’m focused on is the boy with the long hair. He keeps running his long fingers through it, brushing it out of his face. I wish he didn’t look so sad. Maybe I should be the one telling him everything’s okay.

He starts paying attention to the people up front. And I take advantage of that and close my eyes.

I’m awoken again, this time by numerous voices, not just the raspy, deep one I’d been listening to before. When my eyes crack open I can’t see a thing. Everything is bright, like I’m looking right into the sun. I hold my hand up, trying to shield my eyes in just the slightest, but I’m being poked and prodded and held down by numerous people.

My heart rate starts to go up, I feel panic arising in my chest and suddenly, I find myself looking around for the boy who’d held me earlier. I wanted to look into his eyes again. I wanted him to tell me I’d be okay.

He’s right beside me when I look over and I desperately grab his wrist before they can pull him away. I see his face clearer in the light, but all I care about is seeing his eyes. He lets me cling on to him, and just like I hoped he would, his kind eyes and words reassure me. “It’s okay, we’re at the hospital, you’re safe.”

With that, I loosen my grip a bit and let the nurses and doctors rush me away. I try to turn my neck, to keep him in view as best as I can, but it isn’t too long before he’s out of sight.

I barely even notice that I’m beginning to sob. Mostly because of the pain, but also because of relief.

I was away from Sam. Finally. I was safe from Sam.

“Meds should kick in soon,” the doctor mutters. His face is facing forward, but he’s got a solid grip on my stretcher. And right on cue, my eyelids start to feel heavy. My wailing stops. And I drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When I wake back up the first thing I notice is how thirsty I am. Lucky for me there’s a nurse already in the room. When I open my mouth to speak, my throat’s too dry to formulate any words. She rushes over to my bedside, pouring me a glass, and immediately paging the doctor.

“How’re you feeling?” she asks gently.

After gulping down the entirety of my cup I sigh in relief. “I feel okay.”

“Any pain?” she asks, checking my vitals and taking my pulse.

I shake my head, although I’m lying a little. My head does sort of hurt, and my arm is aching. But I’m used to lying about pain. She smiles at me softly then lets me know that the doctor will be in shortly.

I wait ten minutes or so before a smiling man in a white lab coat comes booming through my door. He’s sliding to my bedside holding a flashlight and shining it in my eyes. He’s double checking all the nurse’s work, before pulling the chair up to my bedside.

“Isabelle, hello, I’m Dr. White,” he says shaking my hand. “So this,” he says, pointing to the bandage around my head. “You had several lacerations, the most severe being the cut on your forehead, which was deep, and had potential for infection. We cleaned it up, it should be in healing up within a few days.”

“Probably when I fell,” I mutter, recalling my head smacking into the pavement on the cold ground.

He nods, “Can you tell us anything else you recall? How you hurt your arm or jaw?”

I nod again, feeling very small in my bed. I know Sam’s actions are not my fault. I know I’m not to blame. But for some reason, a wave of embarrassment and humiliation washes over me. “He hit me,” I say, barely audible.

The doctor sighs, and purses his lips. “We have plenty of support groups around the hospital here, and people to talk to. As for your injuries, I think we’ll keep you here a few nights, check for any neurological damages, then you’ll be all set to leave. Your vitals look good, your awake, and not in a lot of pain, which is a good sign. You have a memory before falling, also a good sign.” He pauses slightly. “We also haven’t contacted any family yet,” he says, looking sympathetically at me.

I nod. I have two parents, school teachers, both alive and well, living back in the U.S. I don’t tell the doc this though.

“It’s just me,” I say softly.

“Okay,” he nods. “Well, you’re not without company though,” he says, a smile spreading across his face. “There’s two lads outside waiting to check in. They were the ones that brought you in here, not sure if you remember that.”

The pair of hazel eyes pop back in my head and I nod slowly, “A little bit, yeah.” I remember the deep voice of him whispering in my ear. I remember his strong arms and soft hair.

“Up for some company?”

I nod feverishly, “Sure.”

Moments after Dr. White waves from out my door, two figures emerge. One is tall, with broad shoulders and sandy hair. There are deep purple bags under his eyes, and his scruff looks untamed. His eyes are soft though, and his lips curl into a sympathetic smile. I spent little time looking at the bulky boy and instead turn my attention to the more familiar one. His shining hazel eyes just as I remembered. I get a better look at him now, he’s tall too, but a lot skinnier than the other boy. He’s got a similar pitiful expression plastered on his face. I wish they’d put the fake smiles away. But instead, I smile softly back.

“I hear you guys are my saviors,” I say jokingly, “I’m Isabelle,” I say, sticking my hand out to shake. The bulky boy takes it first, introducing himself as Liam. Then the curly haired one calls himself Harry.

The doctor smiles, leaving us alone together.

“Really though, thank you both for what you did.”

Liam is the first to speak up, his voice is deep, his accent thick, “It’s our pleasure, really, we were just hoping you were okay.”

“The doctor says I’ll live,” I say with a smile.

“You really scared us for a bit there,” Harry says, “In the car, there was a lot of blood.”

“Shit,” I mumble quietly, “Did I ruin your seats?”

He furrows his eyebrows at me, a confused look on his face.

“With my blood,” I finish.

Liam laughs. But Harry speaks up, “Don’t even worry-“ he mutters, “please, don’t worry about that.”

His voice is soothing. So deep and relaxing. I like hearing him talk.

I’m surprised when the boys end up staying for over an hour. They pull chairs up on both sides of my bed and we make small talk. I like them. A lot. And the best part is, I don’t have to do much of the talking. Liam and Harry talk my ear off well into the morning until Liam’s phone starts to buzz in his pocket.

“ ‘Scuse me,” he says, going just outside the room.

“Two other guys were there,” Harry says, “last night, I mean.”

I nod, vaguely remembering them from the car.

“It’s probably one of them on the phone. They were pretty out of it too last night. Just, in a different way than you were,” he says, chuckling.

I don’t say much, just nod.

That’s when Harry speaks up again, “But you’re feeling okay, right? You’re not in much pain?”

I shrug slightly. “I’m okay.”

“I know you’re okay,” he whispers. “But no pain?”

“My head hurts a little, but it’s fine, honestly,” I say, not wanting to make a fuss.

“Alright..” his voice trails off, “but if you get in too much pain, you’ll tell me?”

I nod reassuringly, wondering to myself just how long this boy planned on sticking around.

Notes