Apartment No.4

Part 20: Headaches with no Hangovers

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Bright white lights flashed above me and I got the odd sensation that I was being rushed forward. The flitting lights made me queasy and I could feel my stomach starting to come to my throat.

"Stop." I tried to groan. I opened my mouth but no noise came out and the lights kept rushing in straight white lines in a hypnotising manner.

"You're making me dizzy. Stop, please." There was a lot of shouting that I could hear over a muffled ringing in my ears. And my arm, my arm was very sore. Agonisingly painfully sore in fact. There was a stabbing, burning, pricking and seating feeling climbing from my arm and my ribs throbbed with a searing heat.

I had an immense head ache and everything began to spin again.

***

An obnoxious beeping brought me out of my sleep.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Slow and steady like a heart beat. I reached up to scratch the tickle under my nose and found an odd bit of plastic sitting across my face.

Just as I went to push and snatch it away a hand stopped me.

"Leave it." I swear I recognised that voice. That deep, husky voice that had an unusual scratch to it.

I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again due to the harsh light. I blinked quite a few times to get rid of the blur, but it took at least a couple of minutes.

When I could finally see I saw the tired face of Mason, I felt a small weight on my shoulders drop.

His hair was messy and stood up like he'd run his hands through it too many times, there were slight shadows under his eyes and he was still wearing a tux. He looked undeniably exhausted and pale.

"Why are you still in your tux from last night?" I asked, closing my eyes and stretching my arm only to wince and pull back quickly.

A pang and sting of pain lured away my confidence of my morning routine of stretching.

When there was no answer I looked up again to see the pained and retreated face of Mason. What was wrong with him? Why is he acting so weird? Why is my room so bright and why does my arm want to fall off?

"Huh?" I asked again unsure if I'd not heard his response or if he just hadn't spoken.

"The ball wasn't last night, Ashley. It was three days ago." He said, standing up and walking slowly to where I was lying from his seat.
He chewed on his bottom lip, blinking up at me with a careful gaze.

"What? What are you going on about?" I mumbled, shaking my head but stopping when a throbbing erupted in my head.

"Ashley, listen to me carefully and take in what I'm saying," he paused, sitting down and taking my hands gently in his, his eyes red bloodshot.

I nodded slowly, taking in a breath and preparing for something, I don't know what.

"Ashley, you were in a car accident. Lucas was driving and he was drunk. He swerved to avoid a group of teenagers and crashed into a lamppost. The car virtually pretzeled around it." He swallowed and I felt a great lump in my throat grow.

For the first time, I actually looked around my surroundings and saw that I wasn't in my room, I was in a hospital room with sterile white walls and floor.