Mine Would Be You: Lawson & Emelyn

By: Danielle Jamie

CHAPTER ONE



Emelyn



November 14th 2009



My head is pounding, and every inch of my body hurts. I blink my eyes awake and slowly take in my surroundings. I quickly realize after seeing stark white walls and hearing the sounds of beeping monitors that I’m in a hospital room.

I bring my hand up to my head and feel gauze taped to my forehead. Taking in the room, I see flowers and stuffed bears beside me.

What the heck am I doing here, and what happened? I think to myself as I wrack my brain trying to remember where I may have been, or what might’ve happened for me to end up here. I squeeze my eyes shut and try my hardest to remember anything.

Slowly, I start to recall being at a frat party on campus, where I attend the University of Alabama. Images flash before me of my fiancé Lawson, my best friend Delilah, and our roommate Lily. We were all at the party together, but other than that, I can’t remember anything else.

I find the button to call for a nurse and push it as I shout out, “Hello?” My throat is dry and hoarse.

I attempt to call, “Hello?!” one more time, hoping someone will hear me, and finally come tell me what the hell is going on and why I feel like I’ve been hit by a freight train.

The instant I yell out again, my head pounds as if a snare drum is beating inside my skull.

I let out a sigh of relief when a few moments later, a nurse appears, along with my mother beside her. “Oh good, you’re awake,” the nurse, who looks like Mrs. Claus, says as she makes her way around my hospital bed.

“How are you feeling, sweetie?” my mom asks, bending down beside me on the opposite side and brushing my hair affectionately from my face.

“Like I’ve been run over by a bus. My head really hurts, and I can’t move my right leg without it causing a pain to shoot through it.”

I glance down at my lower half, which is covered in a blanket, and my mom looks in the same direction. She has a worried look on her face. Turning her eyes back to mine, I notice tears welling up in her eyes. “Do you remember anything from tonight, honey?”

Shaking my head, I look at her with confusion. “No, the last thing I remember is being at a party, but after that…nothing. Just tell me what happened, please,” I beg as I begin to feel a knot tighten in my gut. I have this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach as my mother lets a tear fall from her watering eyes.

“You were in an accident. Why, Emelyn? Why would you ever get into a car with someone who’s been drinking? Haven’t I told you enough times in your life to never for any reason ride with anyone who’s been drinking?”

What is she talking about? I was in a car with someone who was driving while intoxicated?

Squinting my eyes, I press myself to remember anything, but nothing comes. “I can’t remember, Mom. Will you please just tell me what happened?”

Grabbing a tissue from the rolling table, she dabs her eyes before sitting in the chair beside my bed. With each passing second, I grow more nervous.

Resting her hand on my arm, she smiles weakly up at me. “Honey, you were in a very bad car accident. Your side of the car was hit by a pickup truck when Lawson ran a red light at the intersection. You suffered a concussion, and your leg is broken in three places. The doctor said your leg is in really bad shape, and it doesn’t look like you’ll be able to get back onto the softball field anytime soon.”

I am stunned. Car accident? No softball?

Shaking my head, I tell my mom with anger seething out of me, “No. I want another doctor. Broken legs heal quickly all the time. I will play softball. I need to play softball. Without it, I lose my scholarship!” My head is screaming out for me to stop talking, but I ignore the shooting pains that consume me.

Softball is my life. I cannot accept this.

It’s been my dream since before I can even remember to attend the University of Alabama. I worked my ass off all throughout high school to keep my grades up, and busted my butt to impress scouts to get a full-ride scholarship playing softball. Now, to be told it’s all being taken away from me…it’s as if someone just snatched the floor out from under me.

Tears fill my eyes as my mother’s words echo around inside me head.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I just wish I knew why you did it.”

My head is spinning; I can’t process this right now. “Did what?” I snap. I don’t mean to, but I am sad, angry, disappointed, and most of all, in shock.

“Allowing Lawson to drive, for one, and for getting in the car with him. Did you know he was over two times the legal limit?”

I run my free hands over my face as I wipe the tears from my eyes. “He said he was fine. He’d only had a few beers. I can’t believe this.” I turn my head and try to find the courage to ask her the one question I’m afraid to ask. When I do, it comes out weakly. “Is anyone else hurt?”

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