"Oh, my goodness!" I cried out in pain.
I reluctantly dropped the phone, grabbed my right eye with my hand, desperately trying to grab the burned eye.
Honking the horn again.
I raised my head. The headlights rushed at me. The oncoming lane became a one-way street. When a car tried to pass a pickup truck, it suddenly turned to the oncoming lane, which was my lane. I grabbed the steering wheel with both hands and slammed on the brakes. The tires made a high-pitched noise and my car lost control. Pain is everywhere in my body.
No matter what was chasing me, no matter what I was running away from, eventually caught me. I can't move, neither my arms nor legs can move. I can't even turn my head away or close my eyes. In the last few minutes before the impact, before I collided with another car head-on, I was in slow motion and I couldn't look away.
Honk the horn.
Screaming tires.
At the last possible moment, my car pulled out the hydraulic seaplane and the tires caught. I turned the steering wheel with my hands, avoiding the oncoming car little by little. I dashed off the road, over a small cliff, and hit a tree head-on.
My body flew forward. I swear I am wearing a seat belt. I felt the impact of the steering wheel first, and then the windshield. It cracked, slapped violently, caught me like a fastball, and landed deeply in the catcher's glove pocket.
Then there is nothing.
There is only darkness.
How long has she been in a coma? she does not know. She was injured. She was badly injured. She turned abruptly to avoid the elk, but she did not avoid it. Before she fell off the cliff, she and the elk locked their eyes. The elk did not feel sad at all when they were walking where they shouldn't.
She raised her head. She couldn't see anything with her right eye. There is blood everywhere. Her blood. She can taste it. Strong metal bites. She nauseated and coughed badly. She was choked with her teeth. She threw them in her hand and looked at them suspiciously. She could barely breathe, only one side squeaked softly.
She lowered her head. Her skirt! Oh, her poor clothes! She and Lacey just finished this afternoon. One for each. They are so cute. She was sure Clark would like it. Especially because she raised the skirt by a full two inches, higher than the McCall pattern required. Lacey didn't dare, but Annabeth did, and they both giggled. It felt good to giggle; she hadn't been so ZìYóu for months since Clark actually left.
Lacey said, "Oh, Annabeth. I just don't know the frill. Look at your knees."
It's miniskirts, they are all the rage. "
"Really?" Then, Lacey shook her head. ""No, not for me. This is too bold. Mom will lock me in the room for a week. "
"Do I look like Triki?" Annabeth asked, flicking her eyelashes quickly.
Lacey giggled, covering her face with her hands.
"Oh, you!" Annabeth said angrily.
"Mrs. Sugerman will kill you," Lacey issued a Jǐng complaint from behind.
The skirt was ruined. It was obvious that my mother had no chance to kill her now. She was dying.
"I'm sorry, mom and dad," she gasped. A pleasant numbness began to spread throughout her body, and she knew it was a bad sign.
No, she struggled to concentrate.
Clark was waiting for her.
Oh, mother, she thought. Dear dear mother. The moon is beautiful tonight. sorry.
The sound hit me like the sound of water. Make a sharp sound on the metal. Shocked my consciousness, and then retreated to the darkness.
Move. I don't know which way is up, but my body is being moved purposefully.
dark.
My chest rose sharply.
"She's not breathing anymore"
My chest lifted up again.
"I still have a pulse."
My chest stood up again and again.
I cough faintly, then cough more vigorously. Energy flows through me and excites me. I realized that this is the will, my determination, my self-awareness, and I demand to regain control of my body.
I took a sharp breath and shook forward. Heavy hands pressed me to the ground.
"It's okay. It's okay. Don't move. You are safe."
breathe.
The air is full of brilliant and wet breath. I can feel it on my face, in my throat, in my lungs. My eyesight slowly recovered, just like turning on an old TV and needing to warm up.
The colors are so bright, I can almost smell them. It was dark that night, but the bright orange jacket of the paramedic next to me looked like fire.
I tasted the smell of blood.
Oh no, my teeth. I stretched my hand to my mouth. teeth! My teeth are there.
"Hey, hey, don't move, remember," a steady, soothing voice indicated.
I searched in the spinning color, wanting to see the voice's face. He knelt beside me. Short hair, medical emergency doctor uniform, orange jacket. He used tools against me.
"You are still alive," he said, "this is a very good thing. Now, lie down and let me finish what I have to do. We will send you to the hospital. You are a lucky woman. ."
I stretched out my hand to my face again. My nose was twitching; when I took my hand out, it was already covered with blood.
"The nose is broken," he said. "What's your name?"
I tried to answer, but I couldn't do it. Panic filled my chest.
"Hush, hush. It's okay. Relax," he said.
"She's Abigail."
I tried to turn around to see where the sound came from, but my head couldn't move. Only then did I realize that I was tied to a backboard lying on the ground. It doesn't matter anyway. It's Nick's voice. I am very sure.
"Well, Abigail," the paramedic said. "Let's take you to the hospital."
He and another paramedic lifted the backboard to the wheel.
"Can you bring a blanket?" the first paramedic said to the other.
Only then did I realize that I was indifferent. I was cold and trembling uncontrollably. Nick walked over to me. He used soft hands to pull down the skirt that was wrapped around my waist. Phil handed him the blanket, and he put the blanket on me. Nick didn't say a word, but when I looked at him, he smiled, his calm, occasionally Nick Ericsson smile, squeezed my hand.
"Are you coming together?" a paramedic asked Nick.
"No, I have my car. I'll be there soon."
I closed my eyes and watched the people carry me into the ambulance and then led me away.
The hospital they took me to is by the sea, on the dangerous section of road I just drove.
On the way back, I counted the injuries I had suffered. I can feel my legs and arms. I can move my toes and the fingers of my right hand. My left hand throbbed, but the pain was far less than the terrible, incapacitating whole body pain I felt before the crash. In fact, I welcome this pain. This is the pain of my body. I feel very comfortable. It hurts exactly what I imagined. I took a long, deep breath of gratitude.
The lights in the hospital are so bright that my eyes are moist. I was tied to the wheel, the only place where I could see the dazzling white light on the ceiling.
They pushed me into a room. A nurse and a doctor came in and circled above and around me. They talked in low voices, and I couldn't hear what they were talking about. The nurse returned after leaving.
"It will relax you," the nurse said. She holds a huge needle in her hand. I felt a sharp tingling, and the heat spread through my veins. My heart is beating wildly.
"No!" I screamed. Since I was dragged out of the twisted pile of steel, the first word I said was my sad old car.
Let me relax. I'm back in the dark again, and I don't want to leave.
"No!" I yelled and jumped. "I don't want to die."
"You won't die," the nurse said, patted my arm lightly. She rolled her eyes to look at the doctor, and I could barely see him talking to Nick from the corner of my eye. "You are safe here. Relax."
"Let me out!" I pulled the strap on my back tightly, "Let me out!"
Hei is warm and silky, beckoning me. I won't let it go. I have been resisting.
"We need to shine a light on your back to see if you are broken. You have a big wound on your leg that needs us to repair. Your nose is broken and needs plastic surgery. Your head needs stitches. Your hand is broken. You You need to calm down. "You can't go anywhere," the nurse's voice sang, with a strong false sadness.
"No!" I shouted.
Another needle appeared in the nurse's hand like magic. Viola!
Like a light switch, she turned me off.
I woke up in a dimly lit ward, lying on my back. The clock on the wall is 4:7 in the morning. I feel heavy and narcotic. My body felt a foreign body, as if it was stuffed with cotton inside and bruises on the outside. I am no longer tied to the backboard. If I can tolerate the pain in my head and neck, I can turn my head ZìYóu and observe the surrounding environment. I have an intravenous injection device on my non-cast hand, which is connected to a machine, so that my heart rate will slow down. I got a cast on my left arm, and when I opened the blanket to look at it, I noticed some very annoying stitches on my thigh.
Quiet, like a layer of fog, settled in the corridor. From time to time, some people walked through my room wearing colorful and colorful disinfection suits, slowly and quietly. I was alone, but that lasted only a few minutes, and a small nurse hurried into the room.
"You are awake," she said truthfully. ""can you talk? Do you know what happened? Where are you? "These are obviously deliberate questions, but when they come out of her mouth, they sound like declarative sentences.
"Yes, too," I replied. My hoarse voice came from my throat.
This nurse is a very petite Asian woman with a face that was once amazingly beautiful. Her eyes are black and serious, and her hair is black, shining with silver light, cut into a standard chin-length head.
She was doing her work silently, looking at this and that on me, and then at a chart she put in the **.
"Does it hurt?" she asked
"My whole body hurts. How big is the loss?" I said.
"Concussion**, broken nose, broken hands, and lacerations. All in all, you are a very lucky girl. The doctor said you will get better."
"Lucky girl. That's me. Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket," I said sarcastically.
She looked at me hard for a long time.
"The situation may be worse. I have seen worse situations," she said.
Suddenly, I felt guilty because the situation did not get worse.
"Do you want to try the toilet?" she asked. She was walking around and standing next to my head.
"Of course," I said.
"You will feel sore and stiff," she said, "but you should try."
"All right."
I sat up slowly, a little dizzy and unstable.
"Very good, very good. Very painful?"
"Not bad," I replied. I stretched my leg to the edge of the bed. The nurse stood in front of me.
I looked at her dark eyes and smiled. At that moment, I did feel very lucky. Things could have been worse. Suddenly a burst of fear hit my heart. I remember I was choked by my teeth. I remember all the blood and my broken body, the windshield shards in my hair. I remember the last time I breathed. I closed my eyes to the memory and tried to breathe slowly and deeply to restore my composure. (To be continued) (End of this chapter)