Silent

Chapter 14

Loren's POV ~ August 7th, 1965

I have been laying in this bed for weeks. I'm sick of it here. Especially since I've been concious for a week and I haven't been able to talk. Nurse said that my friends have been stopping by but I didn't wanna see them. I didn't know which people were coming by but I didn't wanna know either.

"Good morning, Loren. You feeling ok?" The nurse asked. I nodded. "Still not talking?" I pretended to feel sad. She frowned. "I don't know how this could have happened. We've run tests and everything seems to be fine."

I looked down and sighed.

"Well, I know this might not be the news you wanna hear with your voice in all, but if you feel 85%, I can let you leave." She said.

I smiled and nodded. "Please." I mouthed.

She grinned. "Alright. Can you stand up for me?" She came up to me and helped me stand up. "You sprained your ankle so be careful. I'd say use the crutches for one more day and then just let it rest and take it easy."

Also, my list of injuries were a concussion, a bust intestine, sprained ankle, which is almost healed, broken arm, tons of cuts and bruises up my arms and legs, and a huge gash in my head. Plus my fake condition of muteness.

She helped me up and I stood on one leg. I was a little wobbly at first but she gave me two crutches to use until tomorrow, I guess.

I also got my stitches out today on my stomach. Hell, had to get a few more put in but it's better than what I had before. Plus, it was pretty nasty.

"Alright, Loren. Your clothes are in this box." She said grabbing it off a shelf. "Need any help?" I shook my head. "Alright. Need a ride home?" I nodded. "Ok. I'll call a taxi and they'll be here in about five minutes. Write down an address. I want you to take it easy for the next two weeks and come back in a week to get your stitches out."

Jokes on you. I might not be here next week. I'll probably be getting them taken out in Colorado depending on how everyone acts.

God. That's crazy. In a week, my entire life can change depending on how one person acts.

I put my top on and I put my shorts on next. I was gonna die my jacket around my waste but she said tight clothes wouldn't be recommended for a few weeks. Plus, putting it on might take the pain off my armpits for the crutches.

I took the pen and paper on the desk and wrote down the Curtis' address on it. I took another sticky note and wrote

I can't talk. Mute

On it. Only cause I knew the gang would be asking why I wasn't talking. I know a bit of sign language because I took beginners sign language my freshman year. But I doubt anyone else knows. So it was just easier to write it down.

I gave the front desk my insurance information and waited out front for the taxi.

Eventually, the yellow cab pulled up and I crutched to the back seat. I handed the man the paper and gave him a buck for a tip.

My heart was pounding the closer we got to the Curtis'. I felt like I was gonna slip up and accidentally say something.

But I had to focus. Maybe my bit of sign language will get me somewhere for the next three days.

Three days.

That's it.

When you put it into perspective, it really wasn't much.

Oh what am I saying.

This is gonna be tough.

I grabbed my crutches from the seat next to me and waved to the driver as a thank you. I limped inside and opened the door. I felt sick. This was a horrible idea. It's not too late to go back. I can just start talking again.

I opened the door and everyone was in the kitchen and I think they were playing a card game. I closed the door and accidentally slammed it which is why everyone looked over.

"Loren!" They all yelled. They all ran up to me and I was almost shocked by how much was going on.

"Guys, give her space and let her talk." Darry said.

They all groaned and I tried to regain my balance. They all looked at me waiting for me to say something.

I should have.

I should have just said something.

SOMETHING!

I wanted to... but I just wasn't up for it. I had to see if they really cared or were just pitying me.

"Loren?" Sodapop asked.

I opened my mouth to say something but I stopped myself. Then I remembered the note I wrote earlier. I reached for it in my pocket and it took me a second cause of the broken arm but I got it and opened it and handed it to Sodapop cause he was the one standing directly in front of me.

"YOU CAN'T TALK?" He yelled.

I gave him a shocked look as everyone started asking more questions. I looked around and saw a pen and notepad next to the table next to the couch. I hit Two-Bit with one of my crutches and he groaned. I sat on the couch and started writing.

Doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong. Nothing seems to be damaged but I just... can't?

Everyone was reading as I was writing. "So what exactly happened?" Steve asked.

Broken arm, concussion, bust intestine, the huge gash in my head, and a almost healed sprained ankle.

"Did ya hear about the guy who hit ya? Got 12 years in prison." Ponyboy said. "And he is paying for your car. It wasn't too much but it was more than all of us could afford by ourselves. He's just gonna buy ya a new car for the same price as your last one."

I grinned and nodded. I wasn't sure what to do next.

I just wanted to go to bed, to be completely honest.

This was a lot harder than it seemed.