to where?” I expelled in a shriek, catching the
concerned look of a distressed nurse passing by.
“Shh…
We don’t know yet. That’s what they’re trying to figure out.” I closed my eyes
after aiming my head down, refusing to believe it. “Riots are happening all
over the country. The President’s address has been replaying on the news ever
since,” he said.
After
my curiosity took over, I refused to tune into the television in the hopes the
possibility would go away. It hadn’t.
“How
long have they known about this?” A tear slid along my cheek.
“I
don’t know, but people are claiming this was classified knowledge, that this
was never meant to get out to the public. A lot of houses and shops were looted
in the last few days. The hospital was in lockdown since the night you arrived.
I spent the past week waiting by the barricades outside just to get in to see
you. I didn’t even know if you were alive,” he sighed, shaking his head as his
voice rattled. I squeezed my eyes shut as I pushed the tears from their corners.
Hunching over in the bed, I tended to the onset of nausea. Inside me was an
abyss, sucking the life and energy from every pore in my body. Ignoring the
pain in my chest, I glanced back up at him.
“Wait
a minute… so the military is still here? For how long?” I asked.
“For
however long they need to be, I’m guessing. There’s a citywide curfew in
effect. They’re telling everybody to stay off the streets until the situation
is under control. The President is planning to speak about preparation efforts
later this week. But I don’t want you to worry. You need to recover. That’s why
I didn’t want to tell you yet.” He took a few steps away while I processed
everything.
Evan
was stubborn, choosing not to leave my side, as if he knew how broken I was
about to become. After choking down the assortment of bland hospital food
beside me, I glanced outside the doorway. Several police officers and military
personnel stood in the halls. One spoke to the doctor treating me, striving to
get answers about my accident. They paged through a series of papers, confused
about something, but I wasn’t sure what. When I turned back to Evan, there was
a glossy numbness manifesting in his gaze, like he needed a moment of denial. Not
that I could blame him.
Just
before dusk approached, my mother arrived. Evan stood up as she entered the
room, almost like he felt unwelcome with her around.
“Aubrey,
I’m so sorry! They weren’t letting anyone else in!” She rushed to my side in a
panic of black tears and messy hair to match them. Leaning down, she pulled me
from the back of the hospital bed, giving me a long, suffocating embrace. I
trembled before exploding into a deep, ugly cry. Evan walked to the window, lifting
his head back to view the auroras. The cosmic glow remained above us, still
hauntingly real. My mother sprung over to him, reaching out to deliver a hug.
“I
don’t know how to tell you how grateful I am... that you were there to save my
daughter’s life,” she said. Still in tears, the heartbreak of seeing him, so
expressionless, paralyzed her body, but gratitude overwhelmed her voice. Evan did
his best to hold himself together, his jaw twitching while he struggled to speak.
“She’s
more important than she thinks.” His eyes came back into focus now. Behind his
glance was a darkness I couldn’t figure out. My mother observed him in
suspicion as he exited the room, keeping his sight fixed on me through the large,
square window before disappearing from view.
“The
doctor said you can come home in a couple days, isn’t that great?” my mother sobbed,
attempting to appear hopeful with a smile.
“Yeah...”
I said, exhausted by the burden of emotional weight hovering in the air.
“I’ll
explain what’s happening outside later... just rest. I’ll be back in the
morning to check on you.”
“Mom,
I know what’s going on. Evan told me,” I said through tears.