Chapter Sixteen

Abriana

“Abriana, honey, time to wake up,” whispered a familiar voice.

“Huh?” I responded groggily.

“Doctor Porter is here and she wants to take a look at you.”

My eyelashes fluttered open to my mother’s warm smile. Scanning the room, I took in the machines and the bright fluorescent lights secured into the ceiling.

“Do you need help getting up?” asked Doctor Porter.

Stretching my arms above my head, I groaned. “No, I think I can get it.”

Dr. Porter studied my face as I eased into a sitting position.

Why is she looking at me like that?

“Abriana, you’ve been through an awful lot,” said Dr. Porter.

I nodded in agreement as I pulled on a stray thread attached to the blanket covering my body.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Abriana,” said my mother with a concerned look on her face.

Smoothing out the blanket, I looked up at Dr. Porter. “Everything is sore, I’m scared to go to sleep, and I haven’t showered in days.”

Dr. Porter took a step closer. “The soreness should subside soon and you can definitely take a shower once I’m done examining you. Why are you scared to go to sleep?”

Averting my gaze, I mumbled, “I’m afraid someone will take me again.”

“Abriana, we won’t let that happen again,” said my mother.

Dr. Porter continued to study my face. “Abriana, the detectives have released a statement. Easton Pierce is in a coma and he has two police officers outside of his hospital room at all times.”

“Sweetheart,” said my mother reaching for my hand. “He can’t get you.”

My chest began to rise and fall more rapidly. “No, but she can.”

Dr. Porter pressed her lips together, but she didn’t say anything.

My mother squeezed my hand. “The police are looking into it, Bri. They also have someone posted outside your hospital door. You’re safe. I promise.”

Why doesn’t anyone believe me?

I rubbed my face with both hands. Blinking back tears, I looked at Dr. Porter. “Can we please just get this exam over?”

She nodded and walked over to the hospital bed. “Please lay back down,” she instructed.

After several minutes of questions, poking, and prodding, she asked me to sit up. “Abriana, I’m concerned about the cut on your leg. I think it’s best if we give you a tetanus shot and a round of antibiotics.”

“Okay,” I responded.

“How did you get this cut?” asked Dr. Porter, her voice full of caution.

“Easton’s accomplice. She cut me with a knife,” I said with fresh tears in my eyes.

The doctor and my mother exchanged glances.

They don’t believe me. I bit my lip and stared through the small window in the corner on the opposite side of the room. Anger and sadness swelled in my chest.

“I’ll be right back,” said Doctor Porter.

“Okay,” I mumbled.

Unable to look at my mother’s face, I laid back down and closed my eyes. I pulled the blanket up around my chin. Why did Easton pick me?

“Oh, Abriana. Sweetheart! Please don’t be upset,” said my mother.

She leaned down and gave me a hug. She smelled like roses and lilacs.   

“Everything is going to be okay. I promise,” she said in a quiet voice full of sadness.

Tears threatened to stream down my face. “There was someone else, Mom. I’m not lying. She cut me and she shot Easton!”

My mother ran her hand over my hair. “I’m sorry, Abriana. No one should have to go through what you did.”

She’s avoiding the subject! If my own mother doesn’t believe me, how can I expect anyone else to?

The tears began to fall and they didn’t stop until Doctor Porter came back into the room. She had a syringe and a package of pills.

After giving me the shot, she handed me a plastic cup filled with water and a large pill.

“You’ll need to take these twice a day, after a meal, with a full glass of water,” she instructed. “In the mean time, you should put antibiotic cream on your cut.”

I looked down at the jagged red line snaking up my leg.

“Sure,” I said.

“I’ll leave some on the counter and you can apply it after you get out of the shower.”

“Thanks,” I said quietly.

“Also,” said Doctor Porter, “After going through such a traumatic event and having residual side effects, I’d like to prescribe you some medication to help with anxiety.”

I wiped my damp cheeks with the back of my hand.

“It will also help you sleep,” said the doctor.

Nodding, I looked toward the window and watched as raindrops spattered against the glass.

“Is it okay if I give your mother the prescription? She can fill it in the pharmacy downstairs and you can start taking it tonight.”

I nodded again.

After she wrote out the prescription on a small pad she dug out of her pocket, she ripped it off and handed it to my mother.

“Abriana,” said Doctor Porter, “We’re planning on releasing you tomorrow. But, before you go home, we need you to talk to one of our psychologists.”

“Why?” I asked.

“You need someone to help you process this terrible event,” said Doctor Porter. “And that someone should be a trained psychologist.”

An uncomfortable feeling swept through my core. What if the psychologist doesn’t believe me either?

“That’s fine,” I said.

“Wonderful,” responded Doctor Porter. “I’ll have Dr. Gillian stop down later this afternoon.”

“Now-”

Before she could finish, Alexa burst through the doors with a frantic expression on her face. “Abriana, are you okay?”

“What?” I asked with a confused expression forming across my brow.

Alexa rushed over to my bed and plopped down. “Wait,” she said, “didn’t you hear?”

“Hear what, Alexa?” asked my mother.

“It’s Easton,” she responded. “A bunch of doctor’s just rushed into his room. It looks like he’s going to die!”

Doctor Porter frowned. “Excuse me? Where did you hear that?”

Alexa looked at the doctor. “They had a crash cart. I’m not an idiot!”

My heart began to slam in my chest like a jackhammer breaking through concrete. My hands trembled as I brought them to my face. “He’s dying?”

Alexa nodded with a smile on her face. “Bri, the guy who kidnapped you is going to die! You never have to worry about him again!” she said wrapping her arms around me.

A mixture of guilt and relief surged through my body and shook me to the core.

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