Pieces of Untold Stories

One Night

Jordan sat with his head buried in his hands. He should have seen nothing but darkness, but shattered glass and crimson blood filled his mind instead. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and pressed his palms to his eyes, but the images only grew clearer.

And he still didn't know how he'd gotten there.

He remembered being out late in one of the town's many bars. He rode with his brothers Justin and Jacob, and Justin's fiancé, Sarah, had a cab drop her off after her bachelorette party. They had drinks together like they did every Friday night. Jacob got out of control, shouting and throwing punches in the air like he always did after six shots, and Justin tried to keep him quiet while also trying to keep his own balance.

Jordan couldn't remember much else after he'd had a beer and a few shots himself. At least, he thought that's what he drank. He couldn't be sure, but his head was still pounding from whatever it was.

He tried to take a deep breath, but it got caught in his throat. He gasped for air, wishing he could clear aware this nightmare just as easily. Why couldn't he remember anything else?

Blurry visions flashed sporadically in his mind, but none of them made sense. He saw flashing blue and red lights one second and saw his family pilled in his little car completely care free the next second.

Jordan jumped up from his chair at the feeling of something touching his shoulder, and the white walls and ceiling spun around him. He cried out, begging the pain to stop, and his legs buckled beneath him.

"Careful!" he faintly heard a woman say as her arms tried to break his fall.

Jordan landed on his side, and the shock reverberated up to his skull, making the pounding worse. He groaned as he laid down on the floor and watched the bleached ceiling continue to twist and turn above him.

"Jordan! Jordan, can you hear me?"

Jordan closed his eyes again and took long, shallow breaths. "Yes," he whispered.

"I can't lift you on my own. You have to help me."

With his eyes still closed, Jordan held out his hands for the woman to grab on to. As he felt her pull, he concentrated solely on moving his legs. Every part of his body hurt, but he was moving. The woman led Jordan back to the chair he had been sitting in, and he took another chance at opening his eyes.

A curly haired brunette with big, sad eyes stood in front of him, searching his face for something. Jordan tried to manage a smile, but he was sure it looked more like a grimace.

"Lacy," he croaked. How had he not recognized his own girlfriend's voice? He shook his head. Jacob must have slipped something powerful into one of his drinks.

"What are you doing out here?" Lacy asked. She got down on her knees so that she was eye-level with Jordan. "You should still be in bed. You look awful."

Even with her bossy nature and ill-fitting blue scrubs, Jordan was still convinced he had the most attractive girlfriend. Though every once in a while it looked like he was seeing two girlfriends. He leaned in toward her lips—he hoped—but Lacy grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.

"Jordan! Focus."

"I'm fine. They released me an hour ago," Jordan mumbled. He hated when she did that.

"What have they told you?"

Jordan relaxed back in his chair. "No one will tell me anything, except that I'd have this massive he ache for a day or two. I don't even remember anything since we were at the bar."

Lacy's shoulders dropped, and she bit her bottom lip. Jordan froze. He knew that look.

"Tell me."