Danger Level Unknown (dreamnotfound)

Chapter nine

Incision. An eight letter word. Cut. A three letter word. I don't like the number three. I always used to, but now it just brings up painful memories for me. But, what is the difference between an incision and a cut? Purpose. The purpose of an incision is to heal, to cure, to look under the healthy tissue and fix the broken underneath. The purpose of a cut is very different. A cut is not to heal, not to mend, it is to harm, to break through the  healthy tissue and cause pain. And, as my mother always used to say "pain is nature's way of telling you you did that wrong"

I don't fully agree with my mother in that sense, because I'd that's true, then what did I ever do to deserve my father's relentless beatings, the pain inflicted by him. Those were cuts, those were harmful, and in no way meant to help me.

But this, what I witness now, as Clay grabs a scalpel and begins the operation that could either save my life, or end it. This is not a cut. This is an incision. Carefully guided by the hurt doctor's words, the man with an unknown danger level works for hours. I fight to wake up, with everything inside of me, I fight for survival, praying that this isn't where I leave the world. Please, I don't want to die. Don't let me die in this operating room, don't let Clay be the one unable to save me.

"And close" two words. So close to three. I watch as Clay let's out a major sigh of relief, biting back tears and relaxing his hands. I watch silently from the shadows as he seals the gap in my skin. I notice the care he takes to prevent a scar, and find it kind for him to think of that of all things right now.

My body is now much less place after several blood transfusions and an insanely successful surgery. I am moved to the ICU with few complications. Assuming the shooter had long since left the building, cardiac monitors, IVs and a ventilator are attached to my small limbs and sensitive neck. The monitors, to make sure I my heart rate could be monitored, IVs for hydration, and ventilator to help me breathe. I can't even breathe on my own. I see a faint light in the distance, far, far away, the option of death behind it. But, much closer, right in front of me, is a door I cannot pinpoint the color of. Maybe it's because of my colorblindness, or maybe it's because the color is one without a name. An indescribable yet beautiful shade, with a lifetime worth of memories behind it. The choice of life. I decide to choose neither. I do not want death, I don't want to experience death again. But I'm not quite ready for life yet, either.

It's strange, isn't it, how the smallest of things can lead to any number of consequences. All I ever did was come home to a surprise party for my birthday. All I ever did was go into town to get batteries for Sapnap. Sapnap, oh, I've been so wrapped up in myself, I forgot how this would make him feel. I have to live, I have to see him again, I have to tell him I'm okay. I have to, I want to, I'm ready to.

First, a hand, my fingers clasp Clay's. Then a foot, my toes clenching slightly. Then arms and legs, tensing harshly to combat the sudden pain. And head, eyes flickering open slowly, yet too fast. I let our a low groan, purely out of pain.

Soft lips quickly meet mine in a careful, passionate kiss. I kiss back, immediately recognizing the sweet smell of Clay's cologne. I love him, so much.

--time skip--

It has been almost a year since Clay and I began dating. And today I finally get to go home. No more physical therapy or bright lights. I'm free, I'm finally going to be free. And that is terrifying. I am terrified of the fact that I'm going home. I'm scared that something is going to happen and I'll just wind up back in a hospital bed, hurt or worse.

Yet, every time it seems too much, Clay is there to comfort me. He enrolled in medical school after my surgery. He's good, he's a good doctor, and he will be an excellent surgeon. It does make me sad sometimes, his long hours and pure brilliance. But it also brings me joy to know that he truly loves it, and I'm so happy that I get to call him mine.

I got to see Sapnap again. I told him I was okay, and that it was never his fault that my dad found me. The world seems to much brighter today, as I step into the sunlight for the first time in months. Slightly unstable on my crutches, I allow Clay to guide me through the parking lot.

It was only when I was already in my car and my boyfriend was about to drive me away that his phone rang. It was a call from the very hospital that we had just left. Confused, we put the call on speaker so both of us could hear.

"We are so sorry, sir. Tonight at 12:03 pm, George Davidson lost his heartbeat. Despite our best efforts, we were unable to revive him. We are so sorry for your loss"

:)
Word count: 927