how can you hold onto someone when they're not even reaching.


8. 8

Lukes POV


The faint beeping of the machine next to me was getting louder. My eyes became used to the bright light of the room. My lips were chapped and dirt was speckled across my skin. My head throbbed and it felt like someone was sitting on my chest.

"Luke, honey. You're finally awake." I heard my moms voice as she stood up to give me a hug.

"What happened?" My voice was hoarse and it hurt to speak.

"You were in a bad car accident. A drunk driver ran into you. Pushed you off the side of the road and down a hill. Thankfully, you stopped right next to a river." As she spoke the memory slowly started to come back. The headlights. The pain in my chest as it hit the steering wheel, the airbag failing. Looking over to Rory. Seeing her in pain and not being able to do anything about it.

"Where's Rory?" I frantically asked, getting up to run to her hospital room.

"Luke! You can't go. Lay back down, please. The doctor ordered you to stay in bed until she says you can go." My mom helped me lay back down. I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling it slightly out of frustration.

"Where is Rory?" I asked again through gritted teeth.

"She has to have surgery. She has two broken ribs and a collapsed lung. Shes not in good condition and theres a chance she wont make it." Hearing my mom say those words broke my heart. Rory was in surgery because of me. She might die because of me.

"But I need to go see her. This is my fault, I need to say something. If she dies I cant-"

"Shes not going to die."

"You dont know that." As I finished my sentence, the doctor walked in.



"Luke. You seem to have a few bruised ribs and a concussion. You should be out of here by Tuesday." She smiled at me and my mom.

"Is Aurora Fowler okay?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I cant tell you the state of other patients."

"Please just tell me shes okay." I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I didnt want to lose her. I couldnt lose her, let alone have it be my fault.

"I cant promise anything, Im sorry." She looked at me with sympathy in her eyes before leaving the room. I looked at my mom, a tear falling down my cheek.

"Can I be alone? Please." She nodded, kissing me on the forehead and walking out of the room.

I couldn't stop thinking about Rory. What if she died? What if she didn't and hated me forever for doing this to her? What if I never get to see her again?

It would be the talk of the town. And I would be the one who killed Rory Fowler.


Rorys POV


I open my eyes, squinting at the bright light.

"Rory, you're up!" My mom sprung up and hugged me causing me to cringe in pain.


"Im so sorry, sweetie." She frantically said, sitting back down. "How are you feeling?"

"It hurts to breathe." She nodded and explained how I had a collapsed lung.

"Hows Luke?" I said it slowly, a crushing feeling in my chest as I breathed.

"Hes okay. He wants to see you but ca-" She was interrupted by the doctor as she walked into the room.

"Aurora, you're up. I'm surprised. Ready for surgery?" I nodded, not wanting to speak and cause more unnecessary irritation and pain. She smiled and began moving my bed out of the room.

"Good luck, honey. I love you." I made a heart with my hands and held it up as the doctor pushed my bed. I looked around as we went through the hallways of the hospital. I saw an old man who had to have help breathing. Keeping him alive when hes suffering. I saw a mother, crying next to a man and holding his hand as his heart monitor showed a flatline. I saw a teenage boy with blonde hair and dull blue eyes, his mother sat right next to him. He wasn't noticeably hurt. He looked upset, but alive. He had cuts all along his arms and legs. I knew he was in a car accident. A drunk driver hit him, sending him and the passenger down a hill. He wasnt just some stranger in a hospital bed. He was Luke. And he was ok.

"Okay we're here." The doctor interrupted my thoughts as she rolled me up to a room. I saw surgical supplies through the doors window. I had a sinking feeling. I felt like I wasnt going to make. And if I did, I would have to endure so much pain.

I was moved from my bed to the table they do surgery on. The bed was more comfortable. A random nurse held a mask above my face.

"You're gonna do great, sweetheart." Was the last thing I heard before drifting off to sleep.

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