Almost Dead (Dead, #1) (23 page)

Read Almost Dead (Dead, #1) Online

Authors: Rebecca A. Rogers

“Do you know
how
they decide? Like, are there certain factors I should be worried about?”

Sara smiles, but the lines
and dark circles surrounding her eyes are a telltale sign of exhaustion. “Come, Laney. We will discuss this in greater detail upon our return to Lichburn.” Sara begins guiaraark circleding Laney away from the scene, but Laney resists, fighting back.

“I’m not ready yet.”
Slipping out of Sara’s grasp, Laney turns to me and exclaims, “Listen to me, Flora. When you wake up and are finally able to move, I need you to deliver a message to Chase. Got it?”

I nod.

“Tell him that I know he searched everywhere and couldn’t find me. Make sure he understands my death isn’t his fault.
Tell him
.” Laney’s chin quivers as she tries to be brave. “And tell my sister to go screw herself. She should’ve never treated you the way she did. No real friend would do something like that behind your back.”

“Laney
,” Sara chimes in, “we must leave. You’re only delaying your meeting with the Elders, and they won’t be happy if you postpone any longer.”

Stepping backward toward Sara, Laney says, “Tell him, Flora.
Please
.”

I manage to move my head up and down. “I will. I’ll tell him.”

Sara opens a portal, and Laney looks at me one last time before she hops in.

“Goodbye,” I
murmur, as the color drains from my surroundings, and I plunge into shadow.

c
hapter nineteen • flora
t
wo weeks later

 

 

T
he intensity of the light through my eyelids causes me to squint, even though they’re closed. I softly moan, and the sound vibrates my throat. Moving my head is a difficult task. My neck is so stiff it hardly budges. Little by little, I become aware of each limb, each nerve ending, each cut, scrape, and bruise.

“Oh, my God! Flora?” Mom’s voice
deflates the room’s silence. “Hang on, honey.” She kisses my forehead, then runs out of the room, high heels clacking against the white floor.

I make a feeble attempt
at pulling myself into a sitting position. My arms shake, the muscles drained of any strength. Weaker than they’ve ever been. But I can’t handle the strain, and I let myself go. Breathing heavily, I attempt to calm myself down. Why do I feel like I ran a marathon?

Mom reenters the room with a nurse
who has short, brown hair, and looks old enough to have a few grandkids.

“Hi, Flora. My name is
Pat. I’m going to ask you a few questions, and then we’ll get Dr. Emerson in here.” She smiles warmly. “Are you experiencing any pain at the moment?”


No,” I say, my voice gravelly.

Pat raises her eyebrows.
“None at all?”

“I feel sore, but it’s not painful
.”


Are you experiencing any dizziness or nausea?”

I barely shake my head. “No.”

“And do you have any siblings?”

What kind
of question is this? “Yeah, I have a brother—Derek.”

“What about friends?”

A few months ago, I would’ve answered using Mia’s name, but those days are long gone. “I don’t have any friends.”

“Flora,” Mom scolds, like I’m
a child, “you know that’s not true. You and Mia are best friends.”

“No, we’re not. I don’t want to ever see her again.”

“You were just at her house before the accident. She’s been here every day since you were found. How can you two not be friends?”

Fury builds from
within, threatening to gush over like lava in a volcano. “Because she’s fucking Gabe, that’s why!” Then, taking deep breaths, I add, “I don’t want her in my room again.”

Mom’s eyebrows
crease together, forming deep ridges. “All right, sweetie.”

Pat clears her throat and asks,
“Do you know what month it is?”

“It’
s November,” I state.

“Actually,
we’re halfway through December now,” she replies.

I meet my mom’s eyes, and she nods.

“How long have I been in here?”

“Two weeks.”

Pat lays her hand on Mom’s shoulder, reassuringly. “I’ll be back with Dr. Emerson soon.”

Mom nods. “Thank you.”

I groan. “Do you have anything to drink?”

Grabbing a bottled water, Mom twists
off the lid, then hands it to me. The liquid hits the back of my parched throat, and I nearly choke. God, the coolness is refreshing. I gulp down what’s left in the bottle and give the empty container to my mom. She tosses it in a trash can on the other side of my bed.

“Where’s Dad and Derek?” I ask.

“They’re on their way. They always come here at lunchtime, so we can eat as a family.”

I frown. “They don’t know I’m awake, do they?”

Mom shakes her head. “No, not yet. But they most definitely will.” She jokes about the last bit, emitting a worn-out laugh. There are blue-and-purple circles around her eyes, which I’ve never noticed until now. Are they because of me, because of the accident and my subsequent stay in the hospital? Is she exhausted and stressed from staying here?

Her hands rest on my bed’s metal guardrail, and I reach out, taking one of them in mine
, which is covered in wires and an IV. She looks at our hands, then at me, and smiles.


How bad was I?” I ask, staring up at the ceiling. Do I want to know the answer to this?

“Pretty bad. Multiple broken bones and injuries, which resulted in
several surgeries. It’s a miracle you’re still here.”

If she only knew the shit
that happened after the accident, what all I went through to return home…

“How’s Laney’s family?” I ask.
“Are they okay?”

Mom’s eyes widen.
“How do you know about Laney?”

Oh, shit. I open my mouth
to fake some sort of response, but close it as soon as the doctor walks in the room.

“Flora, I’m Dr. Emerson
.” He extends his hand to shake mine, which I pull out of Mom’s grasp. “Pat said you aren’t in any pain.”

“Yeah,”
I confirm. “I’m just sore.”

“Good, good.
You’ve come a long way in the last couple of weeks, and we’re glad to see you awake. Do you remember anything prior to the accident?”

“I remember everything.”

His eyebrows meet his hairline. “Everything?”

“Yeah, everything. It’s the after I don’t remember, once my body was found.”

“Well, we’ll work on your cognitive and motor skills later. Your father and brother will be here soon for lunch, and I don’t want to keep you from any important family gatherings.” He grins.

Ignoring
him, I ask, “How long before I can get out of this bed?”

“If everything goes as planned, maybe another few weeks. You’ll have physical therapy after that, to get you back to where you were before.”

Before
. Before the accident. Before my life was turned upside down. Before everything went downhill.

I have a long road ahead of me, but I don’t mind facing it. Knowing what’s waiting on the other side is a

relief. For most people, it’s the not knowing that bothers them. It’s not being able to answer the question,
“Have I given it all I’ve got?”
It’s dying completely alone.

But for me,
it’s the completion of a second chance. It’s not taking life for granted. It’s creating moments that take my breath away.

epilogue •
flora
four
months later

 

 

I
’ve almost fully recovered. There are still tender spots and nasty scars, but I remind myself every morning that Laney didn’t make it, that her family suffers a tragic loss. The only thing that’s kept me comforted throughout all of this mess is my knowledge that Laney’s with Sara. Of course, I can’t explain this to her family. I can’t look them in the face and tell them I know exactly where she’s at and what she’s doing. They’ll think I hit my head a little too hard in the accident, or that I suffer from some sort of post-traumatic stress.

I wasn’t able to attend the funeral, but I heard it was touching, and slightly
impressive. Laney’s parents made sure she had the biggest headstone out of anyone in that graveyard—probably anyone in Briarhaven. Two days ago, I saw it for the first time, and I can confirm the thing is oversized, and probably overpriced. Laney would be proud.

“Flora! You’re going to be late for school!” Mom calls.

“Coming!” I finish brushing my hair and jab a couple of earrings in before padding down the stairs.

Mom finishes pouring her coffee into a thermos. “
Waffles are in the microwave, and here’s your orange juice.” She pushes the glass toward me.

She’s been a lot better about caring since the accident. Not all of her time, or Dad’s, is spent with Derek anymore.
They split it. Like this weekend, for instance, Mom and I will be shopping. She insists I buy new clothes before heading off to college. Dad, on the other hand, is more than happy to run me here, there, and everywhere I need to go. I refuse to buy another vehicle. Part of me is terrified I might be pushing my luck.

“I’ll be in the car,”
Mom says, closing the front door.

I gulp down orange juice and snatch a waffle
for the road. Mom left the orange juice carton on the counter.
Again.
This is, like, the third time in a week. By now, I should be used to putting it back.

As soon as the refrigerator door closes, a
piece of Mom’s notepad paper falls to the floor. I pick it up, about to place it on the fridge, when I realize there’s a message scribbled on the front.

 

I’m still around, freak. Boo! (Isn’t that what ghosts say?)


L

 

P.S. — Sara says hi.

 

I really do miss her sometimes. But I’d never tell her that. I’m glad she’s okay in Lichburn. And even if it sucks that we won’t see each other anytime soon (at least, I hope not), we will see each other again someday. Who knows, maybe she’ll change her mind about Lichburn and take Sara’s place. Maybe she and I will hang out in the Crystal Meadow, with Sara. Maybe we’ll laugh about this crazy experience.

For right now, though, I’m going to enjoy my time in this world.
There’s no more static and no more dreary gray. All colors surround me—vivid yellows, pinks, reds, purples, greens. Even the sky is the most striking shade of blue. And, when winter arrives, I’ll be able to feel the snowflakes landing gently on my face, then fade away, as if they were never really there.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

 

My endless gratitude goes
out to my editor for this story, Rachel Bateman. She’s awesome.

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