Her Legacy

XXXVI. Mending

"I don't want to die without any scars." Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club 

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Chapter XXXVI – Mending

Dad threw his car in park when we got to the hospital, and as we were right outside the emergency doors, I was sure his park wasn't legal. He wrenched open the back door of his truck and pulled me out, carrying me towards the ER.

I could hear commotion around me, and I was soon placed on a gurney. I could hear my mom spouting medical jargon at the ER doctors. As soon as I was in an emergency bay, I felt my shirt being lifted and my bandages being removed. I immediately started to feel pricks as all sorts of shots started to be pumped into me. A nurse put an oxygen mask on me.

I closed my eyes, trying to solely focus on Mom and Dad's voices. I tried to block out the pain. Pain from my wound, and pain from what the doctors were doing.

If I was going to die, I wanted to only hear their voices.

I didn't feel the adrenaline like I had in the clearing. Maybe you were only allotted a certain amount of adrenaline for one lifetime, and I had certainly eclipsed mine in my short time in Providence. My body was used to near death experiences. Or real death experiences.

My mind went to Shea. Shea. I loved him. Fiercely. I hoped that he knew that.

Then it was quiet.

I opened my eyes and realised that I wasn't in emergency anymore. I was in a ward. Clearly something had knocked me out. I was connected to a heart monitor again, and I had an IV in my arm with a steady flow of liquid and medication coming into me.

I felt a hell of a lot better. My stomach wasn't burning anymore. I didn't feel cold. I felt okay. That was when I noticed my parents speaking over by the door of my room. They hadn't noticed that I had woken up, and they looked to be having a quiet argument.

I knew I should have let them know I was awake, but I wanted to listen. I closed my eyes and began to eavesdrop.

Mom was crying. I could hear her tears in her voice.

"But seriously, Ronan. What kind of a mother am I? I didn't notice my own kid was in pain because I was too preoccupied with myself."

"Amanda –"

"I was so nervous about you coming over that I spent hours making myself look prettier and skinnier than I really am, all the while my baby has a life-threatening infection! You've messed up my priorities!" she accused emotionally. "I knew this was a bad idea. This is a sign. I can't do this."

I was a millisecond away from sitting up in bed and shouting to them both that I was fine, but my dad responded in an oddly calm voice.

"Do you want to know what I think?" he asked but didn't wait for an answer. "I think Saraphine is her mother's daughter. She's inherited your knack of not letting the people who love her know that something is wrong until it's too late."

Okay, he hit the nail on the head with that one there.

"You're not hearing me," Mom said exasperatedly. "That's your problem, Ronan. You always thought that you knew me so much better than you did. You think I didn't say anything?"

Mom was pissed off at herself. I could hear it in her tone. She was angry with herself, and she was scared, and she was taking it out on Dad.

"I do know you, Amanda," he retorted. "I knew you then, and I know you now. I know you so much that I know you aren't angry at me right now."