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He feels it, and it hurts like hell. Suddenly everything goes completely silent. All movement around him slows down to an excruciating pace. He can feel his pulse pounding through his body, and escaping in torrents through the open wound. His legs give out and he falls to the ground, a dull ache forming in his leg
There's a a loud noise in his ears from the rapid beating of his heart, that seems to have gone on overdrive. It isn't so much the pain, but the shock, the surprise,feeling the hot, wet pain in his foot, the hole the bullet made. It isn't what he expected. He had thought there would be more pain. Then everything goes black.
He's in a heavy black cloud. Nothing to see. Nothing to hear. Just this heaviness in his whole body. So heavy that he cannot move. He can't remember how to open his eyes. Then he start to hear noises. The buzz of machines. Clicking of feet near him. Quiet talking. Connor lies still.
He strained to hear and makes sense of it all. No idea. Where is he and why? Next he feels some light shining on his closed eyes - a pink glow. He struggles to open them. Success. He's in a bright white place. Someone is bending over him. He says Connor's name. And again. He tries to remember how to talk. No words come, but he blinks hard.
Again he calls him. Again Connor tries to answer. Suddenly Connor clears his throat. He thinks he's about to shout. But all that comes out is a tiny whisper "What happened?". His throat is burning from how dry it is and he winces from the pain.
The man seems to understand and reaches out on the table next to the bed and grabs a small cup of water. The cool liquid soothes Connor's throat and he greedily gulps it all down. He licks his chapped lips.
Connor looks around his room. He knows that he's in a hospital, but why? There are Get well soon cards everywhere and also balloons and flowers sitting on the table. The doctor walks around the bed and sits down in a chair next to him.
"I'm glad you're awake, how are you feeling?" he asks, a small smile on his face.
"I feel like shit," Connor replies. He removes his arms from under the blanket and place them on the bed to lift himself up. His body refuses to work with him, so he tries using his legs. He starts to panic. His legs won't move. He can't feel them.
"I-I-can't feel them," he stutters out.
"You can't feel what?" The doctor scoots his chair closer to the bed. His lips set in a grim line.
"M-my legs. I can't feel anything. Oh my god. I can't feel my legs. Help me!" The room starts to spin and he feels like a bird in a birdcage, trapped and suffocating. His forehead begins to sweat and tears swell in his eyes.
A warm putrid feeling rises up in his throat, an acid bitter taste in Connor's mouth, then a tingling and almost burning sensation rises and leaves his mouth as he turns to the side and throws up on the hospital floor.
He continues to empty his stomach. The mixture of junk food and something else, a bitter taste of liquid that his dad let him try before. Alcohol. The sudden realization of the events that occurred the night before come rushing in like a rolling tide. He blacks out again.
Connor awakes with a start. His surrounding is not as foreign to him as they were before and he lifts his arms to rub his eyes awake. He hears quiet voices in the room.
The doctor looks at his dad and mentions him to come inside the hospital room. As he watches his dad walk in, he can't help but feel guilty, and a little bit scared. His dad is unpredictable and has a short temper, something that Connor has experienced first hand. If his dad knows that he was drinking alcohol and was out passed curfew, who knows what he would do.
"Dad...I"
"Save it, Connor. What the hell were you thinking?" His dad's voice fills the room.
"I'm sorry. I-I just. I mean...I-"
"What were you thinking sneaking into someones house like that? What kind of idiot breaks into someones house in the middle of the night?" His dad asks, through clenched teeth.
Connor stays silent.
"Is this about that girl, that girl Daria? Is that why you did this? Is that why you snuck out?"
"No" Connor replies quietly. Normally he'd yell back, but the pain medicine is making him drowsy and yelling takes up too much energy.
"It's not? It's not why you did it?!" His dad's yelling at this point and Connor looks over at the doctor who is watching them with weary eyes.
"So?" His dad demands, waiting for a reply from Connor.
"I-I suck out-"
"Yeah?"
"I snuck out so I could see Jude, Alright?!" Connor bites back. He winces from a sudden splinter of pain to his head. Jude. He hadn't thought of Jude, yet. Did he get shot too? Is he alright? Is he here?
He opens his eyes to see his dad staring at him with wide eyes. He watches as his dad clenches his jaw forcefully. In a deep voice, his dad asks,"What does that mean?"
Connor's tongue is heavy in his mouth and he can't make it move to get the words out, but he's sure that his father already knows. He saw it in his eyes when Connor had confessed for why he snuck out. His dad had already known. The tense moment was broken by the doctor, who was still standing behind his dad.
"Mr.Stevens? Sir, forgive me for interrupting, but there is something that we need to discuss about your son's medical condition."
His father takes his time reverting his attention from Connor to the doctor. "What is it?" His dad asks.
"I'm afraid your son's legs have been paralyzed" the doctor explains tersely.
His dad turns to him. His eyes are fixed on him, dark and furious. His brows are furrowed into a line across his forehead. The anger seems to be radiating off of him. Connor can almost feel the scorching heat.
"But the good news is, we think it may be only temporarily and he may make a recovery" The doctor says quickly, after a strained minute.
"May?" His dad asks.
"Yes, he may make a recovery. It's not 100 percent certain that if we do the operation, he will be able to walk and feel sensation on his legs. But, it's worth a try. It's better that we do the surgery sooner than later." The doctor replies.
"How fast can it be done?"
"We'll have you fill some paper work out and talk to you about the standard risks but, other than that, we can have it done in the next day or two, if you'd like," The doctor says.
His father remains silent as his eyes go from Connor's legs to his Connor's face. After a few seconds, his father closes his eyes and sighs "Okay, what do I need to fill out?"
The doctor leads his dad out of the room, leaving Connor alone with the sound of his heart monitor to keep him company. The stream of sunlight from the open window makes him want to jump out of his bed and out the door to the outside. But, he knows he can't. Like the doctor said, he may never walk again. At that moment he hears a small whimper at the door.
Connor turns his head towards the sound. Jude. Jude's standing in the doorway, hands in his pocket. He's looking at Connor as if he were a puppy in one of those depressing tv commercials. Connor tries to say something, anything, but, yet again his mouth won't cooperate with his brain, or maybe, even his heart.
"Jude" he finally manages to whisper.
Jude walks slowly to Connor's hospital bed, his eyebrows are tense and he's worrying at his bottom lip. It feels like an agonizing 10 seconds for Jude to reach his bedside. They stay there silent, Jude standing and Connor lying back on his bed watching Jude. Connor notices something on Jude's nails. Nail polish. Blue nail polish. Connor's heart begins to swell with pride and butterflies. He reaches out and gently grabs onto Jude's hand.
"What's this?" Connor asks, looking up at Jude with a small smile.
''War paint," Jude replies with a smirk.
Connor's face heats up as Jude squeezes his hand. For the first time since he had been in the hospital, he feels happy...content. That all washes away when his father comes back.
"Get the hell away from my son!" Connor's dad takes giant strides towards the two of them.
"Dad!" Fear pikes up in Connor's body. He's worried that his dad means to hurt Jude.
"Mr.Stevens. I'm so sorry about what happened. What we did was stupid a-"
"Hell yeah, it was stupid. It was not only stupid, but your immature idea cost my son his legs!" His dad bit back.
Jude whips around to him, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. A pained expression fills his face and Connor has to turn.
"W-why didn't you say anything?" Jude asks.
He didn't want Jude to blame himself, because he knew that he would. That's why he didn't say anything. Connor doesn't reply. Maybe it's for the best. Maybe, he shouldn't be friends with Jude, or even hopefully, more.
Connor lets out a small breath and turns to Jude and says quietly,"I think you should leave, Jude."
Jude drops his hand from Connor's as if he had just been electrocuted. His dark brown eyes, that always seems to appear almost black, gazed at him. Jude's eyes dance around Connor's face, looking for something. When it's clear that he doesn't find it, it seems as if Jude shuts down. Connor's heart sinks. But he reminds himself, that this is for the best...it has to be.
Connor looks into Jude's eyes. Completely emotionless. The chasm of life has drained out of his iris's. It's like staring at the dead eyes of a doll, lifeless. The emotion has left his best friend's eyes, and has been replaced by a blank, empty pit of distant desperation. Jude smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Connor," Jude says softly. Jude turns to Connor's dad and nods. He then, leaves heads to the door. Connor notices the tense way that Jude's walking and it makes him his heart ache with guilt.
Jude turns around once he reaches the door and looks at Connor with a small hopeful expression. He opens his mouth as if to say something but then, closes it. Connor looks away from those brown eyes and focuses gaze to his twiddling hands in his lap.
He knows when Jude leaves. It's like he can feel it, like they're connected, we're connected. Now, Connor has just broken the string that binned them together and he isn't sure they'll be able to knot it back together.