Trapped (Maxon and America Love Story)

Chapter 22

Maxon's POV

My entire world can be destroyed at any moment. Just by a few words.

I lay on the cot looking at the ceiling. My head is stitched up. I don't feel pain. I won't feel anything til I know if America is alright. The only pain that bothers me is the unknown. My unanswered questions. That could be good or bring me down and everything with it.

A knock comes to my door. Doctor Mission walks in. I can trust him. He knows about my scars and hasn't told a soul. He knows what my father did to me. I've known him since I was born. My mother favored him the most over everyone else. She said if I every had any problems he could help me. "Maxon," he says greeting me, "off to a good start of the day? No?"

"None of my days will be good until I know how America is," I say like a robot. Dead, emotionless. "How about we check up on you and we'll talk about her later?" I nod.

Once he finishes sweat pants and a t shirt are folded on a chair for me. I get up and quickly change. My legs feel like I've been sprinting for days. My head pounds inside me.

America fills my mind. I walk up to Doctor Mission. "Where's America?" I say eagerly. He leads me to his office and I take a seat. He sits across from me and takes a deep breath. "America is not in the best of shape. She went through a beating before this happened and still is recovering. But since this event has occurred she is not in the best condition. She is in surgery right now. One of her lungs collapsed but should be an easy fix. She will recover quickly from that. What worries me is not physically but mentally," he says, "She has severe trauma from her last event. She was basically tortured this time. Her brain hasn't had enough time to recover. It will take time, a lot of time. Your job is patients. I know you want to help her. But she can only help herself. She goes at her speed."

I look down. I've caused most of this. America is going through so much. I've been so selfish. I've been thinking how I could get through life without her. How I could cope. But she needs the recovering. Getting over our baby. Trying to forget what I've done to her. She has to get through this. And what he's telling me is I can't really help her.

"Can I tell you something?" I ask him. "Of course. You've been telling me things since you were a little boy."

"This is between you and me only. Nobody else. Not a soul," I say and he nods, "When America came in here bloodied and beat to death. I was responsible," I say starting to break down, "I beat her. I murdered our baby. The one we never got to kiss, hold, or tell bedtime stories to. I did that. And I know it's all my fault she's going through this. If I wouldn't have cheated on her. None of this would've happened. These are my mistakes. The mistakes I can never come back from. And now she can barely look at me, or be in the same room as me, without being afraid that I'll beat her. I don't know what to do. I've apologized as much as I can. I don't know what else to do," I put my free hand to my face and cry into it. Doctor Mission looks sincere.

"I don't know what to tell you, Maxon. This is a pretty big and rare event," he says thinking, "Are you seeing the girl?" I shake my head violently. "And America knows that this happened and that you were unaware" I nod. "And knows that your child is..." I nod. "Are you still drinking?"

"No, not lately. I stopped when America woke up."

"Does this girl know, that you don't want to see her anymore?"

"I haven't really told her anything. It's hard to find her. She visits her mom here but she doesn't work here. Whenever I wake up she's gone."

"Does America know that you don't want to be with her anymore?"

"I don't know. America won't let me speak to her."

"If I were you I'd be there for America. Not that you aren't but try and rebuild that trust you had. Trust is the most important thing in a relationship. Without it what would you do?"

"And if I can't?"

"You will rebuild the trust. Don't say you can't. You will do it."

"Do you know if she's out of surgery?"

"No."

"Is there anything else besides a collapsed lung."

"Unfortunately she has been cut. He cut her stitches open and sliced where her old wounds were. They had to restitch her back up and put some more in. She has bruises. Her entire left arm was cut up. She's lucky to be able to function after that. It's not good." I shake my head. If I would've not been so stupid. I've caused this entire thing. It's my fault America is suffering. I've put this pain into her.

"Stop blaming yourself. I can tell you're doing it right now. The more you blame yourself the more you stray away from America. And she needs you right now, even if she doesn't admit it."

"Its easier said than done. If you see her everytime she wakes up screaming, crying and know you've caused her that. You don't feel anything but guilt. Don't tell me to stop blaming myself, unless you know exactly what I'm going through," I say in a sharp, powerful voice.

Doctor Mission doesn't look very pleased but he keeps his composure. "Maxon you're right. I do not know exactly what you're going through. But I know what it feels like to be at fault for a situation. To know that you've caused a loved one pain from your decisions. I blame myself everyday. I live in grief and guilt. I don't want you to turn out to be like me. Broken," he says looking down. I don't know what to say. I just stand at the door looking down. "I will see you later, Doctor Mission. Thank you for helping me and telling me advice. I appreciate it," I say then shut the door. That was awkward.

I go to find the surgery room. I find a nurse and tap on her shoulder. "She's still in surgery, your majesty." I look up and down the hallways. For any sign of her. "Can you tell me when she's out."

"You will be the first to know from me," she says smiling. I nod. I realize how late I am to start the day. Tonight is the report. It's been lonely without America. There's no joy put into it. She always brightens it up. Like she does everything. My sun on the stormy days. My path to the right decisions. My everything.