Spring Break

episode 20

Your decision: Emma should comply with the EMT and go to the hospital to attend to her severe wounds.

The soft, purple floors blurred under the mist of tears that filled her eyes. A trembling breath slipped through her lips, grief throbbing again in her core. He was gone, that she knew for sure. Running off into the woods wasn't going to help him, that was clear.

"Yeah" Emma sniffled, tearing her eyes away from the spot that was once a grave. "Let's go" she muttered, grabbing the EMTs hand for support as she moved into the ambulance. Emma let her body fall onto the stretcher, the soft cloth beneath her welcoming.

The woman stood over her, placing an oxygen mask over Emma's bleeding lips. Heart racing in her chest, Emma's hands curled into fists. The memories of her friends' deaths kept running through her head, the amount of loss growing.

"Emma? You okay?" the woman asked as she inserted the I.V., the small amount of pain enough to bring back violent memories that Emma had tried to forget.

Emma shook her head, each breath growing more ragged. Tears slipped down her cheeks, blood pumping furiously through her veins. Clenching and unclenching her hands, Emma tried to calm down. But after what she had been through, that task seemed impossible.

The woman's dark eyebrows arched in sympathy, her gentle, gloved hand pressed firmly against Emma's forehead. "Alright Emma, I'm going to give you a little something to calm down" the EMT explained, noticing Emma's oncoming panic attack.

A needle was inserted into the I.V. line, the woman's thumb pressing down on the syringe. Emma watched as the clear liquid was emptied into her veins. It only took a moment for her breaths to slow, and for her heartbeat to weaken. Eyes fluttering, Emma's mind grew fuzzy. And for a second, the pain seemed to vanish.

...

Rain fell from the dark clouds, a shadow of grey cast upon the town that could be seen from the window. Droplets ran down the large glass pane, casting moving shadows in the dark room.

Emma lay in the hospital bed, tucked beneath thick, white blankets. Her arms laid limply by her sides, where an I.V. was held. Wires ran from beneath her pale blue hospital gown where they monitored her heart rate.

Brown eyes absent, they stared at the window. Emma's head laid still on the pillow, turned away from the door, allowing her to focus solely on the downpour that raged on outside. "Emma, please. I really need to speak to you" Ross asked from where he sat next to the hospital bed.

"I want to see my brother. And my dad" Emma whispered softly, her voice still dark and fragile. Ross sighed, running his hands over his aging face as the girl wouldn't even turn to speak to him.

His weathered brown eyes studied the thick, purple bruise that swelled around her eye, and the black scab that stretched across her lip. The bandages that wrapped around the already stitched gunshot and arrow wounds were visible beneath the thin gown, Ross' stomach churning at the thought.

"They're flying out, Emma. I'm getting them here as soon as I can" Ross offered, hoping to gain some kind of trust or appreciation. But he didn't even earn a reaction; just that absent stare of haunted eyes. "How are you feeling?" he ventured, clasping his large hands together.

A huff escaped Emma, the sound a sour laugh. Finally she let her head fall to the other side, her dark eyes staring into his. "How am I feeling?" she whispered, a slight tremor to her words. "I watched all of my friends be brutally murdered. I held my dying friends in my arms. I was trapped, shot and tortured by some psycho on a foreign island. I feel pretty damn shitty. I feel like I want to see my goddamn family" Emma snapped, a harsh glimmer to her eyes.

Ross straightened up, his thick black eyebrows raised in shock. A heavy sigh escaped Emma as she turned to face the window once again. "Emma, I'm sorry for what happened to you. I'm so sorry. But I can't change what happened. That's what I need you to tell me about what happened-"

"Why? I killed him. He's dead. It's not like he's going to trial. It's not like whatever I have to say is going to save more people. The people that needed saving are dead now. So why- why do you insist on making me relive the awful things that happened to me?" Emma asked as her voice broke, her hand shielding her eyes where tears began to build.

Running his hand through his black hair, Ross' shoulders slumped. "I know this is hard for you. I can't even imagine how strong you must've had to be. But in order to assure that this case is put away for good, I need you to tell me what happened. Then, I won't ask about it anymore." Ross explained in a gentle tone, trying not to upset her further.

Emma's hand dropped back to her side, her eyes darting towards him. Silence hung heavily in the tense air for a few moments before a resigning breath escaped her. "First tell me one thing" she muttered, watching Ross nod in compliance. "Cecile and Ida, are they okay? Do they-do they think I'm crazy?" Emma wondered, afraid to consider how things must've looked from their point of view.

Ross' eyes glistened, a gentle smile on his thin lips. "Cecile and Ida are doing okay. They didn't sustain any real physical injuries, so they were released from the hospital yesterday. Of course, they'll have to go to many hours of therapy for what they endured, as I'm sure you understand."

Emma huffed a sigh of agreement. "And when I asked them what happened, they told me the same thing that you did. They also said that if it hadn't been for you, they would've never lived. They would've never made it out. They said you saved them. You're a hero, you know that, don't you?" Ross asked, reaching out where he placed a reaffirming hand on Emma's cold arm.

Her muscles tensed at the contact, eyes flaring wide. Slowly she turned to meet his genuine stare, a tear slipping down her face as she let his words sink in. She wished that she could've done something like that earlier, in time to save her friends. But it was comforting to know she had saved someone.

A long sigh slipped through Emma's lips as it felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest. As a small smile pulled at her lips, Emma asked, "what else do you want to know?"

...

Emma stared down at her hands, studying the crusted blood that clung to her cuticles. The nurses had scrubbed her clean, every inch of blood removed from her pale skin. But for some reason, no matter how many times Emma washed her hands, the blood refused to leave her nails.

It made her stomach churn, her skin grow hot, because it wasn't her blood. Worse than that, she didn't know whose it was. It could've been anyone of her friends'; it was impossible to tell. All she knew was that it was the blood of a dead person.

Her hands were quickly shoved beneath the sheets, hiding the disturbing detail from her eyes. Emma let her head fall back into the pillow, ignoring the nausea that swirled in the pit of her stomach. It was going to take time, years even, to go five minutes without feeling like vomiting.

At the sound of knocking, Emma's eyes slid to the door where a nurse stood. "Emma Woods? You have a visitor." the man explained, adjusting the purple stethoscope around his neck.

"Is it my family?" Emma asked with furrowed brows, sitting up to meet the nurses' blue eyes.

Slowly, he shook his head. "I don't think so. It was only one person." he explained, watching a riddled expression grow on Emma's face. "Should I send them in?" he wondered, drumming his fingers softly on the door frame.

Emma felt her stomach churn, a hesitant curiosity filling her mind. Who was here?

Now its up to you...

Should Emma invite the visitor in?
or
Should Emma turn them away?

Leave your vote in the comments, and remember, choose wisely...their fate is in your hands.