A Friend is Always There
My eyes open to reveal a white room in front of me. I glanced around to find that I am in a recognizable yet strange place. I was hooked to a ventilator. There were many glucose bags also connected to my body as well. “He-hello?” I weakly muttered.
I forced my frail body to sit upright in the bed. “Lillian?” A familiar voice muttered. It was a hoarse male voice, as though the person speaking had just been awoken from a nap. I knew the speaker, I have heard that voice multiple times prior to this occasion.
“Who-who are you?” I whispered, holding back tears from my eyes.
My eyes were still partially blurry, a result of me not wearing my contacts or glasses.
The silhouette of the man came closer to me. My heart started to beat faster and my breath was heavy. I shrunk closer, pulling my knees close to myself. The last time a silhouette walked close to me, it was a painful experience.
“Lily, darling, it's me...it’s me…” The silhouette said.
"Me who?"
“It’s me, Harry.”
“Harry Miller?”
“Yup.”
“Idiot!” I claimed, while he rushed over to me. He wrapped his huge and muscular arms around my fragile figure. His ruffled golden hair fell onto my shoulder. My hospital gown was getting slightly wet, just around the part Harry lay his head. I presumed he was crying.
“Hey, hey, hey...you alright?” I questioned, slowly patting his head. He looked at me with his bright hazel eyes. They were teary. He burst out sobbing while I looked at him, helpless and clueless of what was happening to him.
“I should ask that to you…” He muttered. He wiped the tears from his eyes. “You were in a coma for over 3 months. We all thought we lost you.” He whispered the last part with utter pain. We all thought we lost you...
“Right...like that wasn’t my partial goal…”
“SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP, LILLIAN VICTORIA PETIT-SMITH.” He fell on the ground. He was actually crying. “Please...don’t say that. I cannot lose another friend in this close timeframe, Lily, please...”
I tried to keep a straight face and asked, “Where is dad?”
“He went back to the mansion.”
“I would like to meet him.”
“No,” he said and left the room.
"But-"
I never saw Harry cry before this. As much as it was shocking to me, it was much more weird, knowing the fact that he never showed any negative emotions. Crying was something Harry displayed in a rarity.
Few nurses and two doctors rushed into the room in complete panic. I questioned, “What’s the matter?”
The first doctor spoke, “Miss Smith, this is a miracle that you’re out of your coma. There were really low chances of that happening.”
“Oh..”
I went into my stage of overthinking again. What if I never made it out? What if I left dad alone? What if I left this world without a proper goodbye? What if Harry was all alone without me?
The stinging from the needles injected into my body jerked me out of my thoughts. One of the needles drew out some blood while the others injected weird colored liquids into my body. It hurt me badly, but I didn’t scream or cry. I had drifted too deep into overthinking once again at that point.
***
Two days after constant monitoring, I was free to be discharged. A nurse unhooked the glucose and oxygen from my body. I was strong enough to survive without them...or so the doctor claimed. I knew deep down that I was never going to be strong enough for anything.
After long hours of waiting and signing many documents, I had finally been discharged. “Harry, where is dad? You said he was at the mansion so he must not take this long to get out a car and drive.”
“Uh...sit down first.”
I sat on the nearest chair. “What is it?” I asked, demandingly.
“Well...Mr. Petit went to London for some important business meetings.”
“He-he did what?”
“He went last week. He wasn’t really willing to leave you in your terrible state either, Lily, but-”
“There are no buts here. Take me to the Petit Villa.”
“Take as in drive?”
“Indeed.”
“Lily, you need-”
“I know what I need. Home. Now.”
He turned to the nurse and questioned him, “Is it safe for her to be going home?”
The nurse flipped through a few pages and declared, “Uh, well, Miss Smith has been discharged so you are free to take her. We would personally suggest that she rest for at least 3 weeks.”
“Alright, thank you," said Harry, jogging back to me.
He sat beside my gloomy self.
“Cheer up, dummy,” He said, nudging me slightly. He placed my arm around his shoulder and forced me to stand up.
I cried in pain, “Ow, Miller!”
“Oh, sorry.” Blood rushed to his pale cheeks as he flustered the courage to look at me in the eye.
“Dummy,” I said, placing my hand on his waist for support.
I looked around the hospital, also trying to avoid Miller's gaze.
The more I looked around, the sadder I got, for completely no reason. I felt like I had been here before, when in reality I had never visited this hospital in my lifetime.
I shifted my thoughts to Harry. I didn't want to cry in front of him. The last time I cried and Harry witnessed my disaster was when I was twelve.
Harry was an old friend of mine. He was kind and always helped. His presence in the hospital was quite expected, but him crying was a rarity to see. I would have embraced him tightly if it weren’t for me being hurt.
There was a ringing in my head. It was more like a voice but high pitched. A woman’s voice. I muttered, “Harry, stop…”
He quickly came to an abrupt pause. He questioned, “What’s wrong?”
“Voices, murmurs, screams...everything is back.” I sobbed. I sobbed endlessly onto his shoulder. I don't care about him never seeing me cry, I just don't care.
He was shocked. I never cried, especially in public. His hand slowly rose to my head. He patted my head and endlessly whispered, “It’s alright, it will be alright.” His fake assurance was all I needed. “Let’s get you back, shall we?”
“Mhm...” I wiped my tears and tried to gain my stability again.
"C'mon, lean onto me, Lily."
I leaned onto him for support. We walked to his stunning car. Instead of being in awe with the car, I was staring at Harry. I could see the bags under his eyes. His strong figure was bent. He looked tired. I pushed all the thoughts out of my head. I forced a smile on my face.
He opened the door for me to get inside. I carefully stepped inside, keeping my cramps and pains in mind. I laid back in the seat. He bent low to my ear and said, "Don't fake the smile. I know how pretty the real one looks."
Harry started the car and we drove off onto the smooth Dunanian streets.
I looked out, onto the nearly empty streets. This was Duna. Silent and peaceful. “What did I miss in the last three months?”
“The elections, Duna winning the football championship, over 70 homeless Dunanian kids got loving homes-”
“With you, dummy. What happened to you in the past three months?”
“Oh me…” He increased the speed of the car. “My girlfriend was cheating on me, with our physics teacher. Mum and Dad finally got a divorce…”
"Finally. That's good for them. I couldn't bare them removing their anger on you for no freaking reason. Who will you be staying with?"
"Mister Charles Miller."
“I am so sorry. That sucks.”
“It's fine, much better than staying with a druggie of a mother though. How are you feeling?”
“Underdressed.”
“Emotionally?”
“Numb, as always.”
“Physically?”
“Getting better.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” I turned my head from the window and towards Harry. His eyes popped out with a charm, leading me to endlessly stare into the huge abysses of beauty.
Long hours of driving and tiredness we finally reached Petit Vila, the place where I currently reside and have been since forever.
“Alright Lily, I will head out. I need to stay with mum over the weekend...ugh,” He said as he tucked me into bed.
"Jeez...Call me anytime you need something, even to get the littlest thing off your chest.”
“I will. Take care.”
“Harry!”
“Yes?”
He bent down close to understand my muttering. I pecked him on the cheek, which left him redder than rose.
“BYE,” He said, smashing the door shut. I was giggling to myself, knowing that I made the supermodel, Harry Miller, blush.
I tried to think why I fell into a coma, because this has happened before. In the process of my deep thinking, I start to feel sleepy and fall into a highly disturbed slumber, even before calling dad.