Rising From the Ashes

18. Empty

Hey guys! Thanks so much for all the votes and comments on the last chapter, I'm so glad that you've stuck with the story and you like it, it means so much to me! <3 I really hope you like this chapter - I tried to post as soon as I could - and please vote and comment if you do! :)

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They let me out in three more days after running extensive tests on the entirety of my body and fashioning a cast for my broken leg. My ankle was put into place by a steel brace that was to be removed in four weeks after the torn ligaments healed, and my ribs were fixed by another brace that ran down the length of my back. All in all, I was quite a sight to behold – even I flinched the first time they let me look in the mirror. I looked pale and gaunt, my hair dull and matted and a jagged cut zigzagging across my forehead.

“It’ll heal in time for prom,” my dad said only half jokingly, squeezing my shoulder reassuringly as another round of tears started welling up in my eye.

I shrugged my shoulders, the simple gesture causing a painful response from my recently broken ribs. A week ago, I was pretty hopeful for the prom that was coming up in four months, and for all the exciting ways the guys at my school were going to ask the girls – especially considering my then boyfriend was also going to prom and was probably thinking of asking me.

And now…Well, I had no idea of what we were now. My mom told me he had shown up at the hospital every single day for the last three days, each time bearing flowers and once a book that I told him I wanted to read. He begged my mom and the nurse to let him in, but I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing him and knowing that, even though it wasn’t his fault, he made the living and breathing thing inside of me to no longer exist.

I avoided using the word “die”. I told myself I wouldn’t do that even when I was considering an abortion – it made it easier to let go this way. The doctor’s full report was much more encouraging than his original words – despite the harsh injury that caused the miscarriage, I would still be able to have children in the future if I wanted to. In a way, I had escaped a very difficult decision that I had avoided making for months, but it still felt as if someone had ripped me apart and then hastily plastered the pieces back together.

“Nat?” My mom said worriedly, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked away from the mirror and at my mother’s concerned face, forcing a smile that pulled at the torn skin on my face painfully.

“I’m fine. Let’s get out of here?”

“You sure are eager,” my dad chuckled in relief. He picked up the bag of my scant hospital belongings – my parents had brought me a few books to read, but I’ve mostly just slept and struggled along in the light hospital gown, and started walking out of the room. My mom stayed behind, making sure I was okay. That appeared to be a necessary precaution: I had to lean on her after only a couple of step. The pain all over my body was almost making me burst into tears again, but I told myself I could do that when I was in my room alone – there was no point placing more stress on my parents than they were already in. My mom even took the week off work to make sure I was fine as I stayed in bed at our house.

“Are you feeling alright?” my dad asked me again after I got into the car.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I replied in a small voice as the throbbing pain in my leg seemed to subside after I stopped walking. “You guys don’t have to worry so much.”

“Remember what the doctor told you,” my mom said, turning around in the front seat to look at me, “no school until next week, and don’t strain yourself with all the homework. I know you’re going to want to try to catch up, but right now the most important thing is getting better.”