A Series Of Letters {Adopted by Palaye Royale}

Chapter Forty-Five

***Hint: There is foreshadowing somewhere in this that will be BIG***

***trigger warning***

I woke up around five this morning, shaking so bad the bed made sounds and Emerson could feel it. I was freezing, and waves of nausea crashed over me worse than ever before. Remington ran into the room after Emerson started screaming for help. I was dizzy; the second Remington tried to stand me up everything was spinning and next thing I knew I was on the ground. When Remington took my temperature, it was a whopping 102.2° F (39° C). I couldn't stand when Remington pulled me to my feet, so he scooped me into his arms and carried me down the stairs, shouting down the halls as he went. "Hospital; hospital now!" 

It was on the way to Nexus Children's Hospital when the pain started. An awful pain that ripped through my stomach and made me scream and double over onto Remington. He held me closer. The twenty minute ride to the hospital was hell. It was all in the center of my stomach, a condensed ball of pain that seemed to get worse as the seconds went on. The second I saw the hospital, I cracked a smile. "I just want to feel better," I whined out to Remington. 

And then, it was all collapsing. I was vomiting all over the pavement, and then before I knew it I was on a gurney in the hallway and a doctor was shouting down the hallway. There weren't enough rooms. I sat with my head on Remington's shoulder and his hand rubbing my back as I vomited into a bucket over and over.

And that's how I got here. There's an IV embedded into my hand, and I'm leaning into Emerson, slight tremors still wracking my body despite the plethora of medications flooding my bloodstream and tissues. My appendix is ready to explode, and I'm getting it tore out of me in just a few minutes. "I've never had surgery before," I say as Emerson slowly and carefully rocks me back and forth.

"It's not that bad. You don't really know what's happening. You just...fall asleep and when you wake up you're all better." I smile. That's reassuring. I never want it to hurt. I've gone through enough of that. 

My doctor's name is Dr. Cleveland. He renters the room all scrubbed up, and tells me a nurse will be in shortly to take me back. Remington takes Emerson's place. I'm on his lap, his arms tightly around me as he sings soft words in my ear. It calms me down. The song is new, an unfamiliar one, though I don't mind. Two nurses are in before he can finish the song. I tighten my hold on him as anxiety courses my veins. 

"I love you," He mutters as his lips kiss the skin behind my ear. "I'm gonna be here when you wake up." I nod. Emerson and Sebastian hug me tight and send their well wishes. I screw my eyes shut, and then I'm moving. Remington says something, but I cannot distinguish what it is. 

The OR is bright, white, and intimidating. It has that sterile hospital smell that makes me nauseous and brings back memories of Em's suicide attempt. God, I love him so much. All the boys. I love them all so very much. They've saved me on more than one occasion. I have no idea where I would be without them coming to save me. Would I be alive? What would mom be doing to me? I don't want to know the answers to those questions. All I know is that right now, for now, I am okay. Maybe I won't be in the future, but for now I am safe.

They push a drug into my IV. I'm told to count. I don't do it aloud. In my head, I reach seven before I fade off into a safe, silent abyss.

Remington is there when I wake up, just as he promised. My stomach should hurt, but there's too many pain meds in my system. I only whine and reach my arms for Remington, and that's when I feel a pain hit my stomach. Nonetheless, I allow myself to hug him. My arms are tight, my head is on his shoulder, and tears start to fall. 

"Thank you," Are the only words I can manage. I'm not sure what else to say. My brain is swimming with painkillers, and when I start blubbering Remington carefully shushes me and lowers me down onto the bed. 

I'm not sure what I did to deserve a family who loves me and who cares about me and my son. I don't know who was looking over and decided "Okay, she's had enough.". It's unclear what the force was that drew Remington to the back of the venue, but it saved my life. I'm clueless as to how I escaped the horrors of my old house and made it to the venue that night, but I'm glad I did. I have no idea how or why Caden let me go, but if he hadn't he probably would have found me hanging in my bedroom if he hadn't. 

My mind goes a place I don't want it to before I can stop it.

The day was March 22nd. Almost a full year ago. I remember it perfectly. For spring, it was extremely warm, probably around 65 (18) degrees with a warm breeze sweeping tree leaves around. It was a day that would make anyone smile, one that would lift people's spirits. Unless you were me. That day was my breaking point. The pebble that crushed the weight on my shoulders in. I was out, being dragged around by mom when in my head I started planning how I would do it. If I would leave a note. Who I'd want to find me. At 7:30 PM, an automated text was sent to Caden with my last wishes and a suicide note. At the same time, I placed a gun to my temple and shot.

I was barely clinging to life when the paramedics found me. Caden sent them. Apparently I was something like three minutes away from bleeding out and dying. They heaved my limp body onto a gurney and rushed me out the door at nearly the speed of light. According to Caden, Mom stood there as they wheeled me out. She had no emotion. Makes sense. She didn't care.

I had emergency surgery to remove the bullet from my brain. I almost died and there's a pretty nice scar in the side of my head from the gun and around the back of my head from the surgery. I spent ten days in ICU, three days on the tenth floor, and 20 days in the psych ward. I liked the ward. People understood me there. And only Caden was allowed to see me. So I didn't have to see Mom, and that helped alot. 

And I'll admit, I still feel sad. I still have thoughts of giving up. Giving in. Saying 'you win' to the dark spot on my brain and ending it all. But there's no way I'll tell the boys that. There's no way I can. With Remington still in therapy, Elijah's expenses, and everything I need; there's no way they could afford help for me. It would be too much of a bother, anyway.

For now, I'm okay. I'm so, so loved, and that's more than I could say a year ago. If you had asked me back then I would be out of the house and living with my favorite band, I would have called you crazy. I thought there was no way I was going to go anywhere in life. I thought I'd be stuck in that house forever. No out unless through death.

I guess this world is the same in that way...