i love garbage.

copied

secretshame

The last thing Elena hears is laughter. She had been laughing in the car with Mom and Dad, sitting in the back seat as they approached the bridge. And then -

What comes next is a blur. Elena's entire memory is groggy; she feels sluggish and slow, like a broken doll that's been put together with superglue but still is missing little vital pieces. When she comes to, it takes seven seconds for her mind to flicker into action, properly identifying the room as a hospital room. The itchy sheets that feel too thin to be her own between her fingers are those that dress the beds in the hospital she hasn't seen since she broke her arm at the age of fourteen. And, even then, she never saw these sheets; it was when Jeremy had severely injured himself that she was introduced to them.

Elena's hand goes immediately to her head. An IV is lodged into her vein. She moves awkwardly, tilting her head around to grab a sight of something identifiable. Where's the car? Where are her parents? She keeps looking for them, but she can't see their familiar figures standing at her bedside. Her mother's warm touch, her hand grasping her own, is missing. Elena feels ice settle in her chest.

The attempts to lift her head so she's not lying flat leads to her vision being blurred and a spinning in her sight. Everything is better if she stays horizontal. Her attempts only saw her head lift slightly from the very thin pillow; she doesn't feel strong at all. It's as if someone's drained her of all of her energy. She doesn't even know if anyone else is in the room, but she needs to be able to find her voice. If she can't, then this is all a dream she's experiencing while sitting in the backseat of her parents' car.

Her voice is croaky and soft when she says, "Why am I in the hospital?"