Page 7 of Until Tomorrow Comes
Like a tsunami wave, I’m immediately hit with an even more horrifying realization.
I remember the sound of the plaster on the wall cracking when he slammed me into it.
I remember the crunch of my ribs as he kicked them.
That wasn’t a dream. None of it was a dream.
The sound of muffled voices draws my attention away from all the cables and tubes, to a plain wooden door across the room. I can’t stop the tear that escapes down my cheek as flashes of how I got here continue to play through my mind.
If I hadn’t rushed into things, I wouldn’t be here.
I focus on the voices beyond the door instead of the hateful thoughts flooding my mind, blinking away the tears threatening to spill over. Alan’s voice carries through the door. As does my father’s. The two of them have always fought about everything. Well, everything except him joining the army. Even Dad couldn’t protest my brother’s decision to go down that path.
“She’sourdaughter. You have no right to tell us when we can and can’t see her.” The tone of my dad’s voice makes me flinch. It’s as if he is having a disagreement with a business partner, not his son.
He sounds more upset at being told no, than the fact that I’m in the hospital.
I shake my head, which is an effort given how heavy and muddled it feels. My hand twinges, forcing my eyes to it, only to cringe at the size of the needle in the top of my hand. Following the tube up, I see that it’s connected to a drip, a clear liquid flowing from it.
“Only Kat gets to make that decision. If she wants to see you when she wakes up, then that’s when you’ll see her. For once Dad, I’m not trying to piss you off. I’m trying to protect her since clearly none of you have.”
With that, Alan enters my room and immediately shuts the door behind him, before leaning back against it.
He runs a hand over his face, showing his frustration.
Groggily, I appraise my brother.
Alan takes after our dad in almost everything but his eyes. Both of us inherited the light blue from mom. His brown hair is shaved close to his head, with the top grown out enough to comb over to one side. And unlike my skinny father, Alan’s military diet and exercise routine has made him a six-foot beast of a man, who was practically pure muscle.
When he finally glances up at the monitor, I catch sight of the purple bags under his eyes and my heart stutters. He’s exhausted and the ache in my chest deepens.
If it weren’t for the damn heart monitor attached to me, indicating my rapidly increasing heart rate, he probably wouldn’t have noticed that I was awake. He watches the monitor for a few seconds before finally looking at me, and as his gaze clashes with mine, he pushes off the door and strides across the room to my side.
“You’re awake.” He breathes as his shoulders sag a bit.
Regardless of this horrific situation, it’s still good to see him and I can’t stop the smile tugging gently at the corners of my lips.
However, even that slight movement causes pain to radiate up the side of my face.
I hope he doesn’t notice me flinching.
When I swallow to respond, I wince from the dry soreness in my throat. Alan reaches for a cup of water and holds it in front of me, offering me the straw.
My eyes flutter shut at the cool, soothing sensation in my throat as I greedily swallow.
“How are you feeling?” Al asks while setting the cup down.
Like absolute shit, I just want to sleep.
But I can’t bring myself to say that out loud. I refuse to let him worry more than he already is. My cheeks burn with embarrassment remembering how he found me. I try to keep a smile on my face, hoping to ease some of the tension.
“I’m okay.” I rasp.
He raises an eyebrow, shooting a pointed glare my way, my chest tightens in response.
“Well, Iwillbe okay.” I offer what I hope is a reassuring smile.
Maybe.
