The Virtual Affection | #Wattys2018

#22 The Song That Can Save Your Life

                  

Whole Lotta Love blares out of my phone as I ring Jake. The music stops with a click. I hear his groggy voice at the other end.

"Hello?"

"Hey...It's me." My voice quivers a little and my sweaty fingers struggle to keep the phone held up against my ear.

"Oh hey," he says, "What's up? Your voice sounds weird."

I cringe uncomfortably in the car seat, my legs squished against the crushed metal and temples throbbing with pain. I don't know where exactly I hit my head. It's hot and airless. The smell of blood and sweat in enclosed space is suffocating me.

"Uh...can you come near Oak street plaza?" I glance out at the deserted alleyway.

"It's almost one, Sarah," he replies, exasperated, but soon concern takes over his voice, "Wait, what are you doing there so late at night? Are you okay?"

I gulp the bile rising in my throat, "Yes, uh, I was driving and I...Something came running across the street suddenly...I think it was a dog or something...I turned and there was this giant tree right in front of me..."

"Holy crap," I hear shuffling at the other end. I picture him clambering out of bed and putting on some clothes, "For goodness' sake, Sarah, call 911!"

"No, no!" I strain my voice to speak, "Please. Dad will kill me if he knows I've wrecked his car. I'm okay, really. It's just my legs. I think I've hurt them. The door's jammed for some reason. I just need your help, okay?"

"You're crazy, you're absolutely crazy," he says fretfully, "Hang on, I'm on my way."

ooooooooooo

He yanks the car door open and his eyes widen as they fall on me.

"Oh God," he whispers.

"Thanks for coming," I suddenly feel sick and fatigued.

"I got to call 911, Sarah, I'm sorry," he says with a horrified expression as he pulls out his phone.

The next few moments are a blur. Visions dissolve and reform in front of my eyes and my head feels dizzy. By the time the paramedics pull me out of the wreck, my limbs are numbed with pain. I close my eyes, unwilling to look at all the blood and torn skin. I'm sprawled out on a stretcher and into the ambulance. It jerks slightly as it starts moving.

A middle aged woman is aiding my wounds and Jake is holding my hands tightly. He's saying something, but I can't hear him. I think he's telling me to stay awake but my eyelids are already drooping. I think he even sings to me at some point. I recognise the song as soon as I hear his faint voice over the sirens. It reminds me of mom. I cling onto the melody and soon feel warmth slowly seething into my veins. It's the last thing I remember before everything goes black.

My house in Budapest

My hidden treasure chest

Golden grand piano

My beautiful Castillo

You, ooh, you

Ooh, I'd leave it all

Ooh, for you.

ooooooooooo

"It's not very serious but she's lost a lot of blood," I hear a distant voice say. My head is heavy and aching. The familiar smell of blood and screeching of sirens flash through my brain, making me feel sick again. However, this time, I can feel the warmth of the hospital bed beneath me. My head and legs are heavily bandaged. My eyes flutter open and I look around.

"Sarah!" My Dad rushes over to me. A part of me fears what he will say, but he just looks tired and frightened. He bends down and gives me a quick hug. I imagine him getting a call in the middle of the night telling him his daughter is in the hospital and I feel ashamed of myself. I shouldn't have put him through all this.

"What on earth were you thinking?!" His temples are throbbing. He's angry.

"I'm sorry, Dad," I say meekly, "I was feeling hot and couldn't sleep so I thought I should get some fresh air. I shouldn't have gone driving on my own."

"Thank God, you're alright," He sighs, "The doctor says you just have a few bad wounds. Thankfully, nothing's broken."

I nod.

"Just rest, alright? I'll be a minute." He gives my hand a little squeeze and follows the doctor outside. I turn to my side and close my eyes.

I wonder where Jake is? I need to talk to him. Firstly, I need to tell him that I've found out that the mystery guy is Ken. It has to be. I honestly would have never seen that coming. Quiet, shy, nice Ken. Now with this accident and all, it's going  to be a long time before I get to talk to him.

Secondly, and most importantly, I need to thank him for being here tonight. I need to thank him for holding my hand in the ambulance and for singing to me; for helping me soothe my pain and stay alive. A warm smile spreads across my face as I think of the song. I can almost hear his voice against the sirens and picture his lips move. I hum along. How did he know that song? I never told anyone about this song or that my mom used to like it.

I open my eyes and sit up.

I did. I told about it to 'Dave'.

I told him that  it's my favourite song because my mom used to love it.

My heart beats loudly against my chest.

I shake my head. Jake singing it to me was probably just a coincidence.

The events of the night flash in front of me again. I remember ringing him. Whole Lotta Love. 'Dave' said his favourite band was Zeppelin, didn't he?

Oh God.

I clutch the table and try to get to my feet. They are still pretty weak, and I feel like they might give away any moment. I walk out as fast as my injured legs can carry me.

I scan the corridors. He's nowhere in sight. I limp over to the hospital desk and ask the redheaded woman if she had seen a tall boy with brown hair come this way.

"Oh, I think he just left, ma'am."

"Thanks," I say, disappointed, and am about to turn away but something crosses my mind, "Did you see him get into the elevator?"

"No," she says, probably wondering why I would ask this, "He took the stairs."