13 Denial

Aubrianne Ivanov POV

"Ok," I croak, then breathes a huge sigh of relief at this illuminating news. Things did not go as far as I horrifyingly thought for that small moment. Which felt like a lifetime, to be quite honest.

But I was still not entirely willing to grasp the gravity of the situation; I shoved everything down and decided to go with denial, of even being attacked.

Don't judge me. I just can't deal right now. I refuse to break.

I lean my head on the pillow, tightly closing my eyes again. I tried to think of something else...

Meanwhile, Kylynn and Ena, who were off to the side, hovering nearby, came around me. One by one, they hug me tightly, and I return their hugs a little one-sided as Jada continues to stroke the back of my palm, which she holds on to.

John then told us he would get the doctor.

After, they took their turn to offer well wishes and regrets for not being there sooner. I thanked them and reassured them that I was ok and it was alright, hugging them once more.

I then look over at Jada, and her eyes say a lot. As such, our eyes began to communicate.

She assured me she would kill Ron on the spot, also asking what had happened. I told her I would tell her everything, only not now. Then our eye communication stopped when John came back in with the doctor.

"So Doctor White," I said after introductions, "give it to me straight as I have a flight to catch in the next two days." His name was Doctor Nathan White!

Was it two days still? How long was I out for? I wander off in my mind. Dr. White smiled at me and said, "somebody is eager to get out of here."

Licking my dry lips, I answer, "Yes, yes, I am." I am not going to attempt to sugarcoat it. I wanted out of this place.

Dr. White went on to say he had great news. Before he continued, he looked at my club family, who was still hovering closely, and asked, "do you all mind waiting outside as I discuss some things with the patient about her fall."

They all gathered up and scurried outside, and I quickly clasped Jada's hand tighter, asking her to stay. Then I made a mental note of 'the fall???' I will talk to Jada about that another time.

"The impact did not cause much damage, and thankfully no cracked cranium. Looking at the wound externally, you did not hit the concrete that hard."

"However, after a scan, it showed some bruising to your brain, which can be because of the impact. As such, you may experience persistent headaches for the next few days, and you may also experience vomiting or nausea."

In the end, he explained it all.

However, I had one burning question. "No cracked skull?" Because I know I am not losing my mind, at least, I don't think I am.

I scrambled through my mind—I could have sworn I heard a crack and felt the warmth of my blood starting to soak my hair.

Dr. White says, "no, you were lucky, there was actually blood there, but we could not quite figure out how it got there. As I said, no cracked skull."

"Huh? Strange, isn't it?" I was still skeptical about what to think because what made matters confusing and worse was that I was missing pieces of the attack.

"Yip, but you are going to be fine." Dr. White assured me, then scribbled a prescription and handed it to me, saying, "these can help with the pain."

But he suddenly pulls his hand back before I can reach it and asks, "by chance, are you a recovering addict?"

Not sure what it was. Maybe it was the frown of confusion on my face that I am sure was there. Dr. White quickly explains, "these are very addictive, and we do not give them to recovering addicts. I will have to prescribe an alternative method."

My mouth made an O.

I have nothing against addicts. They really do struggle and need help and guidance. It's just I am sure that I, personally, was not there. I do have a little drink occasionally and indulge in a bit of marijuana sometimes, but that's it.

Soon enough, though, my head felt heavy, as if my brain was being overworked. It began to throb, reminding me of its presence. I was unsure of what was happening. Nevertheless, I answer him, "no."

He nodded and gave me the prescription. While I randomly thought it was probably already wee hours in the morning, who knows how long I was out for, and I wanted to be in my bed, where I am currently crashing with Jada.

I asked if I could go home today.

Dr. White said, "no, we need to keep you under a twenty-four-hour observation before releasing you to be sure."

I groan as I still have a few things to finalize before leaving, but it looks like I will be here for another day.

So, of course, I fuss and pout, asking, "really? Do I have to?"

"Yes, you do. It's for your safety," Dr. White says.

I sighed; he then pushed something on my hanging drip bag and said: "get some rest. I will check on you later."

My eyelids start feeling so heavy I halfway look over at the guys. Shawn quickly walks across, kisses me on my forehead, and whispers, "get some rest, baby girl."

Now looking at the girls, then at Jada, who is the closest to me, trying to communicate to her with my eyes telling her to go home, get some rest, and shower. I would see her later. But I don't know if the message was conveyed or received.

I was out cold.

***************************

My throat feels so scratchy and dry. I groan as I try to open my eyes and adjust to the dim lighting. Looking around, I saw Jada asleep at my bedside. She is on a chair leaning over, head resting on the bed.

I scan the room and zone in on Shawn sitting off to the side, then I lay back as I have an eerie memory of someone drawing my blood and fiddling with my IV. Was it a dream?

It was like a vague memory in the back of my mind.

Brushing it off, I inspect the room. It is clean, with grey walls, the hint of chemicals, and the hint of bleach flowing into my nostrils as I inhale deeply.

I feel a thousand times better than I felt before. Wanting to change my position, I shifted into a different but comfortable position on the bed.

It is the only bed in this room, white with some blue on the sides, and a little table is by the open glass wall to my right with a mug full of water.

Ooooh, water, I would kill for some, I thought. Darn, can I move again without disturbing Jada? She must be tired.

I pick up where I left off, and two glasses sit beside it. Next to that is the creamish with a hint of, is that red?

I wonder....it was the chair that Shawn's currently sitting on, fully asleep, anyways next to me on my left, there is a small white table with a drawer and a small compartment with a tall glass vase of one beautiful bouquet of white roses, hovering overhead is my monitor.

Then I eye a tall thin white exquisite vase with a plant that flares out at the top off to my right up closer to me, and even closer to me is my saline hanging off of its holder.

The door to the room faces us, and slightly to the left of us, there is a couch jam into the wall, and not far from the door, as you enter to your immediate left, there is a chair.

I tried to move slightly to adjust my position and halfway sit up, trying not to disturb Jada. Because the need to try and reach the water was overpowering.

However, in all my efforts, she still stirs and eventually wakes up.

She looks at me, eyes blinking a few times, adjusting to the light, "heyyy, Aubri, you're awake. How are you feeling? Any headaches?" She rattles out as soon as she wakes up from the sleepy haze.

"No headaches," I rasp, coughing, my throat incredibly dry. I tried to talk again but simply shook my head.

Jada rushes to get me a glass of water, the mug not too far away. I grab the drink she provided me, desperately saying my thanks before I gulp down the entire glass.

"Whew, boy was I thirsty," I said with a half-smile, throat hoarse, sounding dry. That last scream for my life did a number on my throat.

Me screaming 'somebody help' flashes in my mind, and I grimace.

I quickly shoved it down.

A/N:

Picture of Jada in the comments >>>>>>>>>