My Distraction

Chapter Two

April

     I groan, my head feels heavy. My eyes open to behold white lights, white windows, even white sheets envelopes me. Everything is white. This is not beautiful. My eyes squint in response as to how bright this place is.

        What happened?
    
     I do not like this. No, not at all.
              
                "Help."
    My voice, it is not mine. It sounds cracked, lost of anything called life in it. I feel dead.
        
    No I cannot be.
              
            "Help."
     I repeat again, it is a whisper and the air in this room does not carry it very far.
                "Help?" I ask to no one in particular. For the first time in my life I regret been lonely.
                

      "Help me."
   I beg. I turn my head very painfully tears spilling. My head moves to my left and then my right.
    
   
    Something stops this movement. My eyes adjust. Any colour other than white was now my favorite. Anyone I set my eyes on now. And it was there; plain black. There it was all stretched up on the white chair besides me. My eyes treacherously travel up, studying every piece of it. My distraction. My eyes could never mistake that sharp nose.
               
        "Hello?"
     I try to wake him up. He looks tired. But, I need to know what is going on.
               
          "Hello?" 
  I repeat again, as I gear my head upwards. The lights too are a sharp shade of white.                           
    

       I look at him again. He looks like he is in a state of rest. No sound escapes him. But the movement of his chest, rising up and down makes me realize he is asleep. Maybe if I touch him, he will wake up. And I will get to feel him. But even that is hard. My hand fails to move.
    

       I think my eyes might just loose their sense of vision. The constrasting colors of his black attire, his porcelain skin coupled with the white walls are all too much to take in. I study his face now, yearning for an answer. Pale pink lips match his nose. His eyes a symmetry of perfection. I want to see the story in those eyes.
     

        It is almost as if he read my thoughts. His eyes, they flutter open. Blue. It is beautiful. They pierce through me, creating a beautiful contrast.

     He catches me looking. I wait for him to speak, as I memorize him. Blue and Black. My new favorite colors, they stare right back at me. Is he not going to speak? I am sure his voice will be a rhythm to my ear drums.

      Speak. Please. I wait.
    A second. A few more. Is he? I hope not.

    What he does next shocks me. A phone. He hands me a phone. There is a texting app on the screen. My hands still refuse to respond to my will for them to move. He sees that. He seems to want me to talk. So I do.
      

     "What is your name?" I blurt as feel my throat stretch in pain.
He quickly types it down. He enlarges it on his phone screen as he shows me.
            
       'JACK'  I see.

'I'm going to get the nurse.'
    
   I see again, after he withdraws his phone and types something in it, holding it up in my face. He goes before I even get to protest. I follow his movements out the door.
           

          "Jack." I think out loud. I love it. I attempt a smile. A resulting sharp pain flows through me. I hope nothing is wrong with me. Soon the need to inspect my body takes over me. My legs are totally covered by the sheets of the bed. But my toes can wriggle. That is a good sign. Even if they are heavy. My hands are a different story. I know they are fractured. If I was involved in an accident, it must have been pretty bad.
    
      The thoughts in my head are scrambled, so l cannot be sure if I was even involved in an accident. I try harder to think, but the pain in my head grows.
    
     "I'm so sorry, we got really busy with our patients today."
 
    I hear a frantic voice boom throughout the room as I hear the door clicking open. Noticeably, through her dressing, I realize she must be a nurse. She might even be my nurse. Jack trails behind. He is tall. He easily towers over her five feet probably nine inches figure.
     
      "It is okay." I force my lips to move to stop her from worrying, most especially from speaking. Sound right now really made my head feel fuzzy.
     
       "You will be fine. You've just got some stitches here and there. You'll be put on crutches. But still you'll be fine."
      She assures holding her clipboard close to her bosom, likely not understanding that I really do not want to entertain any form of sound.
       

        "What happened to me?" I ask finding a little hope in believing that nothing wrong had happened to me.
        
     "I'm so sorry. I didn't inform you."
    She says coming to my bedside, taking a seat besides me.
         "Inform me? About what?"
    I cry out, growing afraid as I try to sit up.
       

      "Please just lie down. Everything's fine."
     She beckons readjusting me.
I glare at her wanting an explanation.
       

       "You were involved in an accident" 
    She breathes, her face contorting. Just like I thought. I close my eyes as the memories seep through. I groan. I got hit by a car when I was distracted by my distraction.

    What is he doing here?

   I look up to find him gone.
      
     "He's gone. He brought you here."
     She says answering my thoughts as she notices my distress.
     
        "He did?"
A nod is the answer.

   "Good kid though. You should thank him, he saved your life."
      
      I pause my breathing, now wanting more than ever to know what happened on the night of the accident.
   
    "You want anything?"
She adds, her eyebrows creasing in concern.
        
        "Water."