Sommerstall Academy
: Chapter 50

As soon as we walk through the hospital’s double doors, everything comes rushing back. The massive headache and horrible nausea. I can feel my heart beating in my throat and my lungs being squeezed by an invisible iron fist when my brain catches up with where we are and why we’re here.

I knew something was wrong. I felt it all evening and still did nothing.

I follow Jamie and Elija’s parents on shaky legs, barely able to see through my blurry eyes. I hate hospitals. And I hate that I’m reacting this strongly when this should be about Elija. He’s hurt and I want to be strong for him. Just this once, I’d like to be there when he needs me.

I force myself to breathe, ignoring the familiar scent of hand sanitizer and the memories it brings. Memories of my aunt connected to several machines. Memories of goodbyes.

I can’t do this. As much as I hate myself for it, I’m not strong enough. I can’t breathe. I can’t see.

I replace the closest wall, trying to be quiet as I gasp for air. Then I walk until my hand hits the handle of a door. I open it and stumble into the room without having any idea where I am. It doesn’t matter though. I just need to be away from the others when this happens.

I fall to my knees, unable to support my own weight any longer. I can’t feel the impact, all I can feel is the tightening of my lungs.

I’m still falling. I don’t know what’s up and down so I curl up into a ball, trying to protect myself even though what’s hurting me comes from within. I stay like that, hyperventilating until I’m no longer on the floor of that cold room.

Here, daylight is streaming through the window. It’s a beautiful day. No cloud in the sky interrupting the sun’s travel. It’s warm outside but it doesn’t reach this room.

No, this room is a cold nightmare.

‘Florence,’ a soft voice says. I shake my head, tears gathering in my eyes as I try not to turn around.

‘Florence, look at me,’ the voice repeats. Slowly, I obey.

In the clean, white bed centered in the room lies a beautiful woman. Dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and a loving smile on her lips. It’s my aunt before she got sick.

‘You’re okay,’ she says, holding out a hand to me. I shake my head again, even as I take her hand greedily. God, I’ve missed her.

‘Listen to me, you’re okay. I know you’re overwhelmed but right now, you need to suck it up. You can breathe and you sure as hell can wake the fuck up. You’re my little fighter, okay? My kind little fighter. You’ll wake up now and be there for your boyfriend like you always used to be there for me,’ she tells me but I don’t want to do that. I’m finally with her and I don’t think I can handle goodbye again.

‘Florence, tell me you can do that,’ my aunt pushes, that old fire burning in her eyes. That determination and compassion all those hospital visits slowly snuffed out.

‘I can do that,’ I tell her over the tears clogging my throat.

‘That’s my girl. Now wake up!’

With a gasp, I sit up. I rub my eyes, breathing deeply before taking in my surroundings. It’s an empty room apart from the vacant bed in the center.

Slowly, I get to my feet, still shaking slightly though it might just be from the cold. I wish I’d thought to bring my jacket.

With one last deep breath, I get out of the room. I can do this. I’m fine.

With the help of a nurse, I replace the guys and Elija’s parents in less than five minutes. They blink when I arrive, asking me where the hell I’ve been.

‘Sorry, needed a moment,’ I tell them with the faintest smile I can muster up. I must look like a mess but no one here cares. For once, neither do I. ‘Is he going to be okay?’ I ask, taking a seat next to Benji. He puts an arm around me wordlessly and I lean my head down on his shoulder.

‘The doctor just left. He said they didn’t know when Elija will wake up but that he should be fine. He’ll have a concussion but there’s no internal bleeding,’ Robert says tiredly. ‘We’ll go see him now. You guys should go home and get some sleep, we’ll keep you posted if anything changes.’

The guys start getting to their feet but I can’t bring myself to do the same. Not even when Benji tugs at my hand, telling me, ‘Come on, we’ll drop you off at home.’

‘That’s okay. I’ll just wait here,’ I tell him. Home is the last place I want to go right now. Anywhere but next to Elija is the last place I want to be.

My friend seems reluctant to leave without me but Amelia comes to my aid. ‘Come on, Honey,’ she says. I tell the guys goodnight and follow Elija’s parents. By now, I figured Kai must be at home with the twins.

The three of us enter a room not unlike the one I passed out in. The lights are on, if not dimmed and the bed isn’t vacant. Instead, Elija lies there, his head bandaged but otherwise, he looks peaceful.

There’s one chair in the room so I simply stand next to him, holding his hand gently. It’s already generous of Elija’s parents to let me stay so the chair, at least, is theirs.

‘I’m getting myself a coffee. Can I get you something?’ I hear Amelia ask.

‘One for me as well, please,’ Robert replies.

‘Florence?’ the woman then asks. I jump slightly since I zoned out.

‘Sorry, what was that?’ I ask.

‘Do you want something from the vending machine?’ she repeats slowly. The sweet lady is staring at me all worried so I try to smile softly as I shake my head.

‘I’m fine, thank you.’ The last thing I need is to give my stomach anything else to be upset about.

Amelia leaves and the room falls silent. I keep watching her son, swiping my thumb across the back of his hand like he often does with me.

This is not how this evening should have gone. We should have eaten dinner together with his family. It would have been fun and he would have been fine. I just hope he wakes up soon.

‘You should try to get some sleep,’ Robert tells me from where he’s sitting on the chair. He’s right, I can feel how exhausted my body is but I don’t think my mind would allow me to sleep. Still, I get down on my knees next to the bed, leaning my face against the side of it without letting go of the boy’s hand.

I hear steps coming closer but don’t turn around. Not even when I feel a heavy coat being draped over my shoulders.

‘Thank you,’ I say quietly.