Five Month Lie | t. holland

May | I

The restaurant exploded. Sparks shot into the night sky. There were screams and sirens but you could only hear the pounding of your own heart.

Debris rained down around you. Some may have hit you. You could not feel the pain.

Struggling; crying; wet, bruised, and bleeding, you stayed on the grass on your hands and knees, close enough to feel the burning heat and awful smoke.

Someone put a hand on your wet shoulder but you barely noticed. You were staring through tear filled eyes at the door your best friend had just run through.

"Peter!" You screamed, long and defeated. Your voice cracked and your arms fell out of their lock. Your face hit the warm grass.

A fireman helped you up and another one put an arm around your waist to keep you from stumbling. They led you over to the back of a firetruck where there was a stretcher waiting.

"But I don't need-" You protested. Then you caught sight of what could not be your reflection.

The reflection's eyes were blackened from the smoke and ash, her face was scratched and bleeding, there were several gashes along her chest and arms.

You stumbled in your ruined heels and soaking dress as they quickly transferred you to the doctors waiting by the stretcher.

"Please-" You weakly fought against their grips, strapping you in and forcing an oxygen mask over your mouth. "He's- he's in there..."

Your head grew heavy as the light of the fire dimmed when they wheeled you up the ramp and into the ambulance.

"Peter..." You croaked.

~~~

Beep... Beep.... Beep...

You arose to the sound of a heart monitor. The air around you was too cold and sharp for you to be comfortable.

Opening your eyes you saw that you were in a hospital room. Your bed was fitted with a thin white sheet and a ragged cream colored flannel throw.

The heart monitor was next to your pillow.

The dark window in the wall told you it was night. You had no idea how long you had been in here, or where you even were, or where...

"Peter..." You said in a voice that could not have been your own.

Weakly, you slid your feet out from under the thin covers and they met the hard, cool surface of the tiled floor.

Then the door opened. "Ah, miss ___, you're awake. No, no, here, slip back into bed, you are in need of some rest."

"Where am I." You demanded of the plump nurse. "How long have I been here." You swallowed. "Where is-"

"Now, now, I'm sure you have all kinds of questions my dear, but you mustn't worry, you've got some visitors here that can tell you everything I think."

The nurse helped you slide back into the covers of your hospital bed. "Right then, I shall go get them."

A minute later your parents walked into the room.

"Oh ___!" Your mother cried as she saw you laying there.

"Mom..." you smiled. When she hugged you you winced at the pain. "How long have I been in here?" You asked.

"Oh," your mother wiped a tear from her eye. "Four days. The smoke had really taken you in the head, we were worried you might be out for longer. But thank the lord you're alright."

You looked up at your father. "Dad... where is..."

Your father pursed his lips. "There's uh, someone here who can tell you."

You wondered what was happening as your parents were ushered out of the room. ("We'll be waiting right here! We'll come in again later tonight!")

Then Harry walked in.

"Harry?" You questioned. He had not been on your list of possible candidates waiting to visit you. "What are you doing here?" You curved your neck to try and see if Peter was walking in behind him.

He was not.

"I'm here on behalf of your boyfriend." He said.

"Is Peter okay?" You asked the question that had been burning inside of you.

"He's fine." Harry said. But as he said it, you could tell he was lying. He wasn't very good at keeping secrets.

You raised your eyebrows in disbelief.

"Honestly, your boyfriend is fully functional and well. He suffered minor injury from the smoke intake but otherwise he's fine. Hospital let him leave yesterday morning, which is actually why I'm here."

"Ah, see here I was, thinking you cared about me." You smiled.

Harry smirked. "Anyways, that boyfriend of yours had to fly back to Hollywood to straighten something out with his contract. Apparently it didn't cover burns in the healthcare plan, and the docs classified the injuries in his lungs as smoke burns."

Harry must have noticed your face fall slightly because he rushed on, "But he really, with all of his heart, wanted to be here. He stayed by your room door waiting for you to wake until I had to practically drag him to the car so he wouldn't miss his flight."

You nodded.

"But he'll be back. Soon I would think. HIs plane is landing in..." Harry checked his watch. "Half an hour. So I'm off to pick him up, and then," Harry stood up to leave. "T- uh, Peter... will be right here by your bed instead of me."

There was that look again. Harry was definitely hiding something.

"Bye ___."

"Bye Harry, thanks."

He nodded and left.