Chapter Seven - What Happened?

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Chapter Seven - What Happened?

--Tris

I jolt as I wake up in a different room than I'm use to. The sudden movement sends pain shooting down my left leg, and I cry out, now noticing it is wrapped differently than before I fell asleep.

The first thing I do is rip the oxygen mask from my face.

That's another blank memory.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

A soft rap on the door makes me jerk and yelp in pain again, the door opening to reveal Dr. Scott. She walks over to me, smiling from ear to ear as usual.

I wonder if she was an Amity born...?

"I was convinced you weren't ever going to wake up, Tris. However, it's good you got some well needed rest."

I look at her, and the pain in my leg leaves me unable to speak. All I feel is my chest heavily rising and falling, and I grip the sheets of the bed for support.

"Here," she says, fixing around the IV that attaches into my foot through the cast. "We had knocked down your pain meds since you weren't waking. We were scared we overdosed you by mistake."

"What happened?" My voice is not my own, for it sounds groggy and faint.

"Do you remember me doing the ultrasound two days ago and telling you you needed surgery?"

It all comes back to me, and I nod slowly, the pain still strong in my leg.

"Well, I wasn't the one to do the surgery, for I'm not really a surgeon, but I've seen the reports, and everything is looking good. You've got to be very gentle with your leg though. Stitching muscle to muscle like what they've done in your leg is very tricky, and even if you are gentle, your muscles might still not take to healing as a whole. You still are fairly young yet though, so your chances of healing within the next six to eight years is much higher than after that time."

"I won't be able to walk for six to eight years?" I meet her eyes dead on.

"Gosh, I hope not. For now, your cast will be changed and another ultrasound will be done in two months. You're bed-ridden for the next week, maybe two. For this week, you're with me in the regular main part of the hospital in this room. Then, the plan is that next week you'll go back into Rehab and the rest will be played from there.

"What's wrong with my leg?"

"Do you remember what happened?"

"I-- uh, well, maybe?" I say, scrambling for pieces of broken memories in my mind.

"You've been through a lot, Tris. I don't think this is a conversation for right now."

"But I want to know." I insist.

"And I'll get you someone who I'm comfortable with telling you."

"But why can't you?"

"Tris, I'm your general doctor. I'm not a psychologist, or a family member. I've been working with you for so long that I basically consider you family, but it's just not my place. You're allowed visitors since you're stable, and visitors is what you shall receive."

I sigh, giving in to whatever she's hiding.

"I'm going to have a nurse bring you some food, alright?"

I shake my head no, feeling nauseous from the pain in my leg that has yet to subside.

"Please just try to eat." She says, smiling slightly. "I'll be back around a little while later. Don't get into trouble."

"It's not like I know why I can't walk." I'm surprised by my own attitude.

She laughs, closing the door to the room behind her.

I lay around for the whole day, my stomach a hollow hole from denying the food that was brought to me: a piece of bread and some broth.

Nurses have stopped by, causing me pain as I jump each time one knocks on the door.

I'm unsure as to why I can't sit upright by my window in the Rehab room. What's the difference between sitting here, and sitting there?

It must be nearing dinner when there's a knock on my door. I instantly recognize the smiling faces of my parents walking into the room.

My mother grips to my father's arm for support, and I can't remember why she does. All I remember is that the last time I saw her I feared for her life because she was visiting me in a wheelchair.

"Beatrice!" She wraps her arms around me, a gesture she probably would've hesitated to give if she were still truly Abnegation and I were a Dauntless member.

She squeezes me tightly, and I refrain from wincing in pain. I haven't felt so weak in a while.

My father takes his turn, wrapping me in his arms much more loosely, and placing a kiss on my cheek.

"We didn't know you were having surgery, or else we would've came over sooner and visited you beforehand at least," my father sadly smiles. "Then your doctor contacted us, saying it was a last minute thing, but that you could have visitors now, so we came right over." He says, helping my mother into the chair next to the bed I lie in.

My mother looks at me, tears brimming her eyes.

"Mom?" I say quietly.

"The last time I saw you," she pauses, taking my hand in hers. "I was sure you were never going to be the same. But, look at you. Beatrice, you've always managed to pull through, and it always amazes me."

"You always pull through, Beatrice." She slides across the stone cold floor, gritting her teeth in pain, to take my hand through the rails that separate us.

"You never fail to amaze me from it." She finishes her thought, but I barely hear her from my pulse rushing through my head, the new metal piercing the deepest parts of my left leg.

"What situations?" I ask her.

"When you were born, you almost died, as did I. You know the average Abnegation births. Well, you weren't breathing, I was bleeding out, and the house was twenty minutes away from Erudite where the nearest hospitals were. You figured out how to breathe on your own, and you were just minutes, if not seconds old."

She talks forever, and I listen contently. My father had came to visit me in rehab once or twice, but due to how difficult it is for my mother to get around, she hadn't come, and in her conversation, she tells how it broke her heart that she didn't come.

"Something seems like it's on your mind, dear. What is it?" My father asks gently.

I bite my lip, wondering how to reply. However, my words slip like a Candor.

"What happened to my leg?"

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