Untitled (thus far) - Chapter 1

"Mom, come on," I said. "You said yourself I am completely fine, I feel completely fine. Get me out of here."
"Lira Anne, you will stay in this hospital untill they discharge you," she said in her best disciplinary voice.
I rolled my eyes. Knowing I'd lost the battle, I looked around the room desperate for something to do. That is when I realized the IV.
"WHAT is this doing in my arm?" I asked, pulling at it with my hands.
My mother swatted my hands away and scolded me again, "Don't touch that, the doctors put it there."
"Why?!" I asked, "I'm completely fine, remember?"
"The doctors aren't sure, remember?" she countered. "Leave it there."
"I don't want it in my freaking arm," I muttered as a fresh wave of anger went through me.
That is when the IV exploded.
"Oh!" my mom gasped as whatever was in that plastic bag doused her thoroughly. "How did that happen?"
Even if I was as suprised as her, I had to repress the urge to laugh. She looked up, her mouth was in a surprised 'o' and she was blinking rapidly. The nurse walking by glanced up, smiling, and then went back to her clipboard. she then stopped dead in her tracks and gawked at us through the glass before charging into the room.
"Your IV exploded," she cried.
"Thanks for telling me, I never would have guessed," I muttered as she ran out of the room calling, "I need a new IV pronto!"
"No I don't!" I called after here. "I need to get out of here."
I'm normaly not so pushy, it's just that hospitals and me - we don't agree. I've never been able to stomach that 'anti-bacterial' smell that clings to the inside of your lungs. I've never been able to handle the gleaming white surfaces. I've never been able to handle being addressed like a five-year old - which most nurses must take a class on because I was about ready to scream. If one more person slapped on a fake smole and asked 'Are you sure this doesn't hurt?' in their best sweetly, high-pitched voice I would lose it. Why would I be in a hospital if I wasn't hurting? That was the question I really wanted answered.
But, of course, no one really hand an answer to give.
I swear if I ever meet that MORON that hit me hard enough to put me in here, I'll kill him. Since I'd rather forget about the whole experience, I'm going to summarize. Three different doctors came in separately to ask how I was doing - all three got the exact same answer:
"I'm fine, can I go home?"
The first two just stared at me in amazement and then hurried out into the hall. The third one looked me in the eye and said with a completely straight face:
"We have no idea."
Finally, I'm getting somewhere.
"So I can leave then?"
"No, what I meant was," he paused here, as if he was searching for some way to break the news delicately, "we have no idea how you're alive."
Faliure.
"But I am . . . so?"
"Our paramedic's showed us pictures of your injuries, and from their descriptions, the one thing we can agree on is that you should not be talking to us right now."
I was beginning to like this guy, I mean he was giving me answers, and, more importantly, ignoring the dramatic gasps and attempted protests from my mother.
"What were my injuries?"
"Your nose broke, the bone shattered," he said simply. "At the exact angle you were hit, the shrapnel would have gone right into your brain, mentally handicapping you for the rest of your life - if you were lucky."
"Well, doctor, my nose isn't broken, and I don't feel handicapped in any way," I answered with a shrug.
"Which is exactly why we're so puzzled."
Great. My doctor is 'puzzled.'
"I'm not trying to be rude, but you can be puzzled all you want," I said. "I just want to get out of here."
"I understand completely," he replied. "We might call you in, but I can't see any reason for keeping you here now. There are other people that need our attention."
"Thank you sovery much," my mother jumped in, shaking his hand like he was her favorite movie star.
"You're welcome," he said and then turned to me, "Avoid the pools, huh?"
I just nodded and followed my mom out the door. There was no way I was going to be able to fulfill his request. Since I was little, my mother has referred to me as her 'little fish.' I can hold my breath for a little over two minutes and know every possible stroke. Water is my oxygen - I don't need anything else. you wouldn't think I'm over exaggerating if you knew me I promise. Taking all of this into consideration I couldnt' hold in a chuckle as we pushed the doors open - 'Avoid the pools,' yeah. Like that was going to happen.
My mom pulled out of the parking lot and I buckled my seat belt.
"Once we get home you should rest," my mom said. "Maybe watch a movie or something. . ."
"What about school?" I asked. The last thing I wanted to do was sit around, hadn't I just been 'resting' when I'd been knocked out?"
"You've just gotten out of the hospital, Lira," my mom said firmly. "You need rest."
"The doctors said I was fine!" I said. "My nose isn't broken, and I'm not dead. There is no reason for me to stay home."
"Lira Anne," my mom said threateningly.
I loved my name. Lira Anne Kay. I went by Lira Anne. It just sounded cool, you know? My mom only called me Lira though, unless she was angry with me. Since I seemed to have a talent of getting on her last nerve this happened a lot. She would totally drain any cool ring the name had with her bored or threatening tone.
"What mom?" I asked, exasperated. "The doctor told you I was just fine! He did say he had no idea why, but he said I was fine."
"Lira," my mom sighed. "Don't kids your age want to stay home from school?"
"They wouldn't be forced to lie down and do nothing all day," I said. That was just my cover up though. For one thing, I knew that stories would be circulating that I was dead, or in critical condition at least - and dying would just kill my social life. Secondly, I wanted to find that guy that hit me and see what would happen. It had been an accident, so I didn't necessarily want to yell at him, I just wanted to see him and his reaction.
I can't honestly say what I was expecting his reaction to be - I can honestly say that I was not expecting him to be right there at the doors when I walked into the school during lunch. Not sitting there eating, not just hanging with his friends - just sitting there, waiting for me. I'm not gonna lie, it kind of creeped me out. I don't even know who this kid is; I just knowI probably have a couple hundred of his skin cells on my nose.
"Lira Anne," he said. "How are you?"
Um, who are you? I thought. "Doing okay, no thanks to you . . . . ?"
"I'm Destin," he said, surprising me with his calm reaction to my attack. "I knew you'd be fine."
"Excuse me?" I asked. Who did this guy think he was? "You sent me to the hospital with a broken nose that should've mentally handicapped me for the rest of my life, and you say you knew I would be okay?"
I don't think I meant to be that mean; I think my anger was mostly coming from the memories of the hospital.
"Um . . . yeah," he said, glancing around cautiously. "I could explain if you want to walk with me. Around the school maybe?"
"Huh?"
I know I wasn't expecting that.
"Just walk with me, okay?"
"Yeah, okay. . ."
We walked a little ways in silence, and then it got awkward.
"So. . .?" I prodded.
"Okay, well I work for this . . . lady, Nereida. she sent me to that party because she knew you'd get hit, whether or not I went. She knew that if I went she'd be able to save you and make you one of her children."
Right then, I wanted to run down the halls, screaming at the top of my lungs about lunatics. Her children? Seriously? Did this guy think I was crazy? Was he crazy?
I decided to answer affirmatively to the last question - the poor guy probably just wanted someone to talk to. I have to admit, I wanted to hear what else he would come up with.
"Her children?"
"Yeah," he said, hesitating awkwardly. "Lady Nereida thinks it's a waste of life - especially those of us that were born or her."
"Okay . . . what did you mean when you said that she sent you so she could save me?"
"She knew you'd get hit. She knew you would die."
This sent me over the edge.
"Oh did she? So you guys planned my murder and it didn't work out? Are you asking me to call the police?"
"No, Lira Anne, please listen," he begged. "I'll prove it to you, okay? I bet when you were in the hospital the doctors had no idea what to do with you. They all told you that they had no idea how, but all of your injuries were healed and you shouldn't be there talking to them. They probably had you hooked up to an IV, and guessing by your charming personality, the confusion probably made you really angry and the bag exploded - if there wasn't an IV, the sink or the drain in the floor exploded. Am I right?"
Stunned, I just nodded.
"The same thing happened to me."