I was confined to my hospital bed for three long weeks while my body healed. I saw the dark angel no more. Had I imagined her? Did the combination of pain and drugs cause me to hallucinate? I hoped so, my life was better without her awful image. When I was finally released from hospital, it was not to my own little apartment, but to my parents home with the instructions that I must rest for another three weeks.
My body healed quickly, youth was on my side. My parents cared for me, enjoying having me home, but I felt smothered. I loved them and appreciated all they did, but I was 20, I needed to be back in my own little apartment, surrounded by my own things. Eventually I was given the all clear to look after myself. My dad drove me home and got me settled, but was hesitant to leave me.
“Are you sure you’re alright? You know you can come home anytime you like. I don’t like leaving you here alone. What if you fall?”
“Dad, I barely need my crutches anymore. I’m fine. I can go back to work next week. I loved being with you and mum, but I need to start taking care of myself again. I’ll call you if I need you.”
“OK”, my dad said as he hugged me. I tried not to show him how much pain I was still in when he touched me. I think he knew, but said nothing. “You take it easy, call us every day so we know you are alright.” My dad shivered as he spoke.
“Are you cold?” I asked.
“No, someone just walked over my grave I think.” He kissed me on the cheek and left. I watched out of the window as my dad got into his car. A storm came from nowhere, making me nervous. I didn’t like storms anymore. Lightening forked from the darkened skies. I rubbed my eyes, did I see an awful shadow where my dad’s car had been parked? I closed the shutters, not wanting to look anymore. I’m just tired, thats all.