~spoiler warning~ What would have happened if Bella hadn't jumped?...
I sort of just started this little story for fun because I wanted to see as to where it might go. hehe xD. The chapters are going to be short, why? I don't know. My brain doesn't tell me its reasoning most of the time but I bet it has something to do with the fact that if i squished it all together it wouldn't sound right. Thats my guess. hehe xD. Oh and of course, I don't own Twilight, New Moon, or any of the characters. They are all Stephenie Meyer's creations. ^_^
8. Chapter 8
Rating 5/5 Word Count 1362 Review this Chapter
Four months passed slowly. It took that long for my neck and back to heal and for them to take the steel bars off my head and the brace from my back. After the first month, I had been moved to a solitary confinement center. No one but the doctors, nurses, and psychiatrists were allowed in there for my first month of stay in the nut house. After nearly two months, Charlie and Renee were allowed to see me. At that time, I still had the ‘junk metal’, as I referred to it as, in place so they couldn’t give me a hug easily. Renee was crying of course. She asked me many questions about how they were treating me and how was the food and did I ever have anyone to talk to. I assured her they were taking good care of me and that I talked to the psychiatrists every day. She made a face at that. I’m sure she didn’t count the ‘shrinks’ as someone to actually talk to, but she understood that no one else was allowed. She said that she would visit me every day for the rest of my stay here and that pleased me somewhat. About one month and a half after their first visit, I was told that the ‘junk metal’ could come off. I was very happy and giddy at the thought of finally moving my head freely again. I went into surgery to have the metal screws taken out and when I came out of surgery and woke up, I realized with great disappointment that I still had a neck brace of sorts on.
“Excuse me.” One of the nurses had come in to make sure all was well with me.
“I thought that the whole point of getting the junk metal off of me was so that I could move my head again. I don’t think I can move my head even a fraction of an inch with this brace on.”
The nurse, as always when faced with a question from me, scowled. “Well, if we just took the ‘junk metal’, as you call if, off of you, you would probably break your neck all over again. Your muscles aren’t built up yet. They have become weak from not being used for three months and with the average human head being so heavy and your neck muscles being so weak, if your head fell the wrong way, your neck would break… again.”
I knew she was right, yet I wanted to give her a hard time. I had become very… intolerant, ignorant, and downright rude during my stay here. After all, if they thought I was crazy, I wasn’t going to act polite at all.
“Well then don’t you think the best way to build up those muscles again is for me to use my neck? And how can I do that with this thing on?”
The nurse looked offended, she then straightened her back and held her head high and put on a face of pure hate.
“Yes, you need to work your muscle strength in your neck but it will only be done when the doctor is here to monitor you and it will only be done for a small amount of time a day. It will take another few weeks or so before your neck will be as it once was so I’d suggest getting used to this place because your not leaving anytime soon.”
Now it was my turn to be shocked. Usually the nurses just put up with my attitude and just answered my questions. They hadn’t once, until now, snapped on me.
“Alright then. Just make sure you tell the doctor to hurry his lazy butt up so I can get out of here. I am growing quite bored of looking at these walls all the time.”
She didn’t even attempt to respond. She new I’d just create another rude remark so she just left me to my self. During such times, I pondered over what had happened to me nearly four months ago. It was fading around the edges, but the parts I needed most were still vivid in my mind. It was during these times that I made plans on what I was going to do when I got out.
If I could just find that email Alice had sent me saying that she saw what had happened to me, then I knew everything else would make sense. The only thing I didn’t understand, even now, was why if she saw it, did she come and bring Jasper? She knew he had the least tolerance for human blood. So if she saw me hitting my head, causing blood to flow, why would she have brought him?
I now understood what had basically happened. After I had tripped and cut my head, Jasper had hurled himself through the window towards me. Alice, apparently, didn’t have time to catch a hold of him, or just didn’t care to hold on to him, which in itself is confusing. Why would she want Jasper to attack me? That bit about why Jasper was there was the only truly confusing part about the whole scene. After Jasper had crashed through my window, he had hurled me across my room by my arm, causing the break in my arm, and I smashed into my wall causing my neck and back to break. I could guess as much anyway. Somehow, Jasper hadn’t fed on me and Charlie had come upstairs to find out what the noise was about. When he found me lying bleeding and broken on the floor, he called the ambulance. When they got there, they rushed me to the hospital but my heart had stopped from the shock, I guessed, and they needed to shock me three times before it started again. The next piece of the puzzle that I had solved was that Carlisle had been there and had done my surgery, I guessed as much because of the too innocent face of the nurse and the nod she gave Dr. Mitchell as if encouraging him to lie to me. Carlisle had probably asked the hospital not to tell me it was him. More than likely he said it would cause me distress and may cause me to hurt myself if the truth of him being there had been confirmed. Carlisle had probably done my surgery because he knew that the surgery was going to be tricky and with his super human abilities, it made it slightly less so. Jasper, while on my way to surgery, tried to lull me to sleep when the morphine was added to my bag of saline. He wanted to make sure I was asleep before I saw Carlisle, probably on Edwards orders, but I apparently fought against the drowsiness long enough to see Carlisle and hear him. The whole mess swirled around my brain, causing me to think up different reasons for the actions made and what the motives behind them may have been. I was so deep in though that I hadn’t heard my visitor enter the room.
I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at the face of my best friend.
“Jacob.” I sighed his name, grateful that I could finally tell the truth about what I thought had happened. I could finally get it out and be believed. His face was sad, many emotions flickering across his face. The current and most prominent one, was grief.
“Jacob,” I said tentatively, “what’s wrong?”
He looked down at his shoes but not before I saw a single tear fall.
He looked back up but this time, his face was furious. He looked at me, the tear still shining down his face, which created an odd contrast of the two emotions, anger and pain.
“Bella… how could you do this to yourself?”
I looked at him shocked. How could he believe them? What made him think I was capable of injuring myself so severely? I rethought that. What made him think I was capable of injuring myself so severely on purpose in my own room?
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