Test The Limits

Sorry

Just stay alive. Why did Jack tell me that? Was I hurt that badly when my head hit the glass? I mean, it kinda hurts, but still....

I can't be hurt that badly, right? I've hard worse, I should be fine.

My family needs me. My friends need me. My fans need me.

Amy needs me.

I'm not going to let any of them down by dying just because I hit my head on an extremely strong window. Besides, doesn't exactly seem like a cool way to go. I can already imagine the headline-"YouTube Gamer Dies By Brain Trauma"...Nah, not really catchy.

What was it even made of anyway? My head feels like it was slammed into a metal wall repeatedly.

Wait a minute...

There's people yelling at each other, something about the competition. Amy's crying.

Something's wrong.

I have to wake up and make sure everyone's okay.

I'll sleep when I'm actually dead, not just dealing with a major headache.

For the brief moment that Mark was able to open his eyes, he closed them again almost instantly due to the familiar blinding bright white light shining in his eyes.

Please tell me I'm not in a hospital, Mark prayed silently as his eyes cracked open again.

I'm in a hospital, great, Mark thought sarcastically as he blinked a couple of times to make the room stop spinning.

"....may be pulled from competition if he doesn't wake up." Mark faintly heard someone say as he tried to regain his bearings. No one in the room seemed to notice that he was awake yet.

The room was as dull as he expected, everything a sterile white and the air heavy with the scent of disinfectant.

Mark wanted to say something, but wasn't exactly sure what, so he went with the first two words that came to mind.

"Hello everybody." Mark rasped, his throat dry and scratchy like a desert.

Instantly Amy's attention snapped towards him, gently enveloping him in a hug as tears of relief rolled down her face onto his back.

"I-I thought-"

"Shh, I'm okay. I promise." Mark consoled Amy as she retracted back. Mark delicately wiped the tears off of Amy's face with a small smile.

"I'll go tell the others you're okay." Amy squeezed his hand before getting off of the edge of the bed and leaving the room.

He noticed a pitcher of water on the table beside his bed and a plastic cup, so he filled it up with slightly shaking hands and downed it all in a couple of gulps.

"You're lucky to be alive." The doctor remarked, walking closer to Mark's bed from the back of the room.

"I get that a lot." Mark shrugged, feeling a wave of pain crash over his head from the movement.

"You have one hell of a bump, a cut that had to be stitched that I took care of, and a major concussion. Nothing's permanently damaged fortunately." The doctor told him, his hands clasped together in front of him.