The Lone Dove #1
Love and Trust are two very important ideals, but what happens when the moment you lose the two most important people in the world and are left with an inheritance, and a company you find you cannot trust anyone else with. That is P...
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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: Till Death Do Us Part
In and out like clockwork is what consumed my every thought each time the nurse repetitively assured my nearly unconscious form, that 'I'll be alright'. Yet, no one knows nor can they guarantee the future for someone else.
The feeling of many people coming and going through my designated room, is all my hearing focused on the the few hours I laid here, on this white little bed with creaked up sheets that would crumble with each movement of my hand.
The area around my cheekbones stung quite vividly when I finally sat up, just once the doctor's and nurse's not so light footsteps left my room and I was, once again, alone in the room of beeps, entrapped silence and painted rays of sun through the blue curtains.
Lying on my back was tricky, considering they required to stitch up a few wounds. I lost a bit of blood, which is why I had been so drastically faint, not three hours ago.
The muscles in my arms ache with the symptoms of a common flu, though I know it's so much more than that, given there's no sniffles but sure bruising at the brim sides of my neck. Though the painkillers swipe the pain at my fracture leg away, as well as my broken finger and bruised facials constructed to pain of a minimum level.
The wounds along the mid line of my back pierce with flashes of the memory they hold, along with the collagen fabricated skin that slowly mars across each line, it takes longer for the skin to repair over.
I feel like a hollow cracked shell, my cheeks are easily sucked in from the lack of food I can stomach and the fact I hadn't eaten for so long. My legs, one fractured and the other, a memory of what used to have the power, the muscles and the strength to walk but, I seem to have grown accustomed to lying down. It's been a good two hours after I'd last awoken, when they'd finished stitching me up and doing what they could to keep me breathing. To keep my vital organs working at a pace purposely to keep me alive but, not the energy to keep me moving. To give me the ability to stand on my own two bloody feet is a struggle for the most impatient.
I release a broken sigh, slowly lowering back onto the crisp yet, freakishly comfortable pillows, without the need for pain to accompany my every move. I spend a great deal of a half hour, gazing at that pathetic hospital door in front of me.
My eyes scatter, focusing more clearly when the sounds of scurried screams and barreling yells from several security office attempt to stop the stampede that thunders down the hall. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, slowly placing the plastic cup of water down on the table beside me and sit up on the pillow. The stampede grows near, much to utter confusion.
I shriek when my door is flown off it's hinges with a glassy eyed, red scrunched and boiled up Stevens pants phenomenally before his dark eyes meet mine and that's when he falls knees first, upright to the floor.
I gasp, "Lord, Stevens!" I attempt to move but a string of shuttering shots shoot up my arm when I attempt to. Sadly, I hadn't said those words aloud, finding it a tough struggle to just allow myself to speak, even though it brought me to far worse conditions, running my mouth to Dark- Lord! I don't even want to think his name nor do I want to remember the blood-thirsty face that came along with it.
