Let's reach 250 Power Stones for an extra chapter
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My eyes flutter open, but the bright hospital room is a stark contrast to the warm, sun-drenched memory I was just swimming in. Mom, Dad, Phillip… we were on that road trip, laughing. Dad was telling that same old joke about the talking dog, and Mom was trying to get Phillip to eat his carrots.
"So, Jess," Mom said, turning in the passenger seat, her smile easy, "how are things with… what's his name? Ethan?"
My cheeks instantly heated up. "Mom! He's just a friend."
Phillip piped up from the back, "Yeah, a friend you blush around every time he walks by!"
Dad chuckled. "Heard he's a pretty smart kid. You think he's the one, Jess?"
"No! He's just… nice," I mumbled, wishing the earth would swallow me whole. I liked Ethan, a lot, but it was just a crush. They didn't understand.
The car jolted, the laughter fading. A sharp, metallic smell filled the air. Liquid sprayed over the windshield, obscuring everything. Then, blackness.
And now… this. Wires. Beeping. A sterile, white ceiling. Where am I? What happened? The road trip… the crash… it comes back in fragmented, terrifying pieces. Phillip… Mom… Dad… Are they…
My eyelids feel like lead weights, struggling to lift. A blurry figure hovers over me, a gentle hand touching my arm.
"Easy now," a soft voice murmurs.
My vision clears a little. A nurse, her face kind, smiles down at me. "You're awake. That's good. I'll go get the doctor."
I try to speak, but only a dry croak escapes my lips. Where am I?
Dr. Evans, a doctor with kind eyes and a weary smile, finishes his examination. He presses a stethoscope to my chest, his brow furrowed in concentration. The rhythmic beeping of machines fills the silence, a constant reminder of where I am.
"Well, Jessica," he says, pulling away the stethoscope, a hint of surprise in his voice. "You're doing remarkably well."
He checks my charts, then looks back at me, a slow shake of his head. "Honestly, I'm astonished. No significant muscle atrophy, no real deterioration considering…" He trails off, his gaze softening with sympathy.
"Considering what?" I manage to croak out, my voice raspy from disuse. "What happened?"
He sits on the edge of the bed, his expression grave. "There was an accident, Jessica. A car accident. You were in a coma for… well, for quite a while."
My mind races, trying to piece together fragments of memory. The road trip. Dad's joke. Mom's smile. Phillip's laughter. Then the jolt, the smell of metal, the blackness. "My family…" I whisper, my throat tightening. "Mom? Dad? Phillip? Are they…?"
The doctor's face falls. He hesitates, choosing his words carefully. "Jessica… I'm so sorry. They… they didn't make it. You were the only survivor."
The words hit me like a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs. No. It can't be. Not them. Not Phillip. A choked sob escapes my lips, and then another, until I'm gasping for breath, tears streaming down my face. My entire world, shattered. The doctor places a gentle hand on my shoulder, his touch a small comfort in the face of this immense grief. He's seen this before, I can tell. The dawning horror, the crushing weight of loss. I'm awake, but my life, as I knew it, is gone.
The door clicks shut, leaving me in the sterile quiet of the room. Alone. The beeping of the machines is the only sound, a relentless march of time I no longer understand. My family. Gone. The words echo in the emptiness of my mind. How can I be here, breathing, when they aren't?
I feel hollowed out, a shell of the person I was just hours, or maybe days, ago. Despair washes over me, a cold, heavy tide. What's the point of any of this? Waking up to this crushing reality? There's no path forward, no reason to move. I just want to close my eyes again, to disappear back into the blackness.
A tear escapes, tracing a path down my cheek. Then another. Soon, silent sobs wrack my body. The weight of it all is too much. I'm adrift, lost in a sea of grief, with no shore in sight. Dr. Evans' words about calling if I need anything seem impossibly distant. Who do I even call?
My breath hitches as the door to my hospital room creaks open. Through the haze of my tears, I see him. Ethan. He's standing there, looking… worried. Really worried.
"Jess! You're awake!"
His voice is rough with relief, and he rushes to my bedside. I can only stare, my mind still reeling from the doctor's words. What is he even doing here?
"Ethan? What… what are you doing here?" My voice is barely a whisper, raw and unsteady.
He settles onto the chair beside my bed, his gaze never leaving my face. He looks tired, but his eyes are full of genuine concern. "I heard about the accident, Jess. Your family… I'm so, so sorry. I've been coming by, checking in. I just… I wanted to see you. Make sure you were okay."
His words, simple as they are, hit me harder than anything else has. He's been here? Thinking about me? While my world fell apart, he was… looking out for me. A fresh wave of tears wells up, and this time, they don't feel entirely like grief. There's a flicker of something else, something warm and fragile, pushing through the pain. Someone cares. Someone is here.
I let out a shaky sob, the dam finally breaking. The tears pour out, hot and cleansing, washing over the shock and the horror. Ethan doesn't say anything. He just reaches out, his hand hovering near mine for a moment before he gently places it on my arm. His touch is warm, grounding. He just lets me cry, his silent presence a steady anchor in the storm. I lean into his touch, letting the sobs wrack my body, a torrent of grief and fear and a sliver of relief that I'm not completely alone.
***
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