16. The Return.
I could see Nirvana was having an internal battle in her head about what Billy and I just told her. I would too. She struggled to heave herself up onto her elbows, but gave up and lay on the clean pillows instead. Nirvana looked almost-dead. Well, less dead. Less than she did when Billy found her. The rotten, pungent smell of it last month was still coated on my lips. Whatever the hell that place was, it wasn't pretty-apparently, whoever owned it told the head of police that Nirvana was needed over there for surgery. Where it true Nirvana needed surgery, it wasn't true that the operation was to be done in that hospital. It still baffles me how Billy of all people knew where to find it.
"How many?" Nirvana's voice was weak, and scratchy. Her eyes were downcast, her hands restless. "How many?" she repeated.
"Well-Jackie...Tony...Ever since you-you left, there was two going every week, either by going home, or-or death."
"Tell me, how long have I been gone for. Please tell me," she asked. Billy met my eyes. Nirvana didn't know?
"You've been gone for about six weeks. Everyone who hasn't left already, is leaving as we speak. The doctors have said we can take you back after you've recovered well enough." Billy's voice was calm, soothing. So when Nirvana started to sit up and swing her legs over the hospital bed, causing the heartbeat monitor to squeal and spike, it came as a surprise.
"I've had the op. I'm fine now. I want to go home." At that point, doctors and nurses swarmed in, forcing us to step out of seats and her personal room.
It took only two days for Nirvana to get better after that. When we arrived back to our 'home' everyone else had left. Billy, my dog Beejee and I were the only ones left. It was only then that Nirvana told us why she had the op, and the deal she had made with dead cursed girl.