Wish You Were Here

56

I hated the way being sedated made me feel. It was like being in a dream where every move I made was heavy and slow, sounds around me were muffled, and people came and went in a blur.

I could hear my parents arguing with the doctor about taking me home. The hospital wanted me to stay there and remain under their care. My parents wanted to take me back home where they could find me medical care there instead.

"The stress of this entire ordeal," my mom said. "It's too much for her! She needs to come home and we'll get her a psychiatrist or whoever there!"

"I agree," my dad said. "We're taking our daughter home. She needs to get rest and proper care without getting worked up. Every time that detective comes in here, Ryleigh gets more upset! If the police have any more questions for her, they'll have to call us or have the local cops do it because we're taking her home."

"I understand," the doctor said. "But I have to tell you, interfering with an active investigation and-"

"Interfering?" my dad yelled. "We're not interfering with anything!"

My mom shook her head. "Doctor, I'm sorry, but as her parents, we think it's best to continue this - the investigation, medical care, all of it - back home in Texas."

The doctor sighed heavily as I blinked my eyes trying to stop my blurred vision. He motioned to me and my parents turned to face me. They all wore matching expressions on their faces.

"I want to see Grant," I said, my throat dry. "And Beth...Will..."

"Stay calm, honey," my mom soothed. "We were just talking to the doctor about bringing you home. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Nice, yeah..." I said in a groggy voice. "But my friends...I want to see them..."

My mom patted my arm and tucked my blankets in around me. I drifted off again.
When I awoke again, my room was quiet except for the sound of a nurse scribbling something onto my chart.

"How are you feeling?" she asked me.

"Where are my parents?" I asked.

"Oh," she replied. "They're speaking with the doctor about getting you discharged. You should get to go home in a few hours, I'd say."

"Home? Oh, okay. What about Detective Larsen?"

She shook her head. "Oh, your parents said they didn't want her or any law enforcement to come back here. Your dad was pretty angry! They're going to pick it up when you get home. Your local police or FBI? I don't remember, but they said something about continuing it when you're home."

My dad must have been really upset if he had raised his voice. He was usually pretty even tempered. But after days of this, it was taking its toll on all of us. My parents had restricted my visits, even from the detective, until I returned home and was seen by a psychiatrist. They were too worried about my emotional well-being.

"I want to see my friends before I go," I told her. "Can someone bring Grant in here? And then can we see Beth? What about Will?"

She poured me a cup of water from a plastic pitcher that was sitting by my bed. I gulped it down and cleared my throat. My head still felt woozy, but I forced myself to not nod off to sleep again. The nurse took my pulse quietly as I waited for her to respond to my question.

"I'm sure that'll be fine. Your parents didn't say anything about not wanting you to visit with any of the other victims- sorry, patients. " She smiled. "I'll go see. I don't know if we can bring them all in this room...maybe one or two at a time."