“I think you're bleeding.”
I looked down at my hands and the shirt of Bobby's that I was wearing. Of course I was covered in blood. Idiot.
“No,” he insisted, pointing to the ground. A few droplets of dark blood were on the asphalt just underneath me. Another fell. Another. I used my hands, covered in Bobby's blood to slowly pull up the hem of the shirt. I had no room for shame in front of these people. They had just witnessed the rape of my soul.
My white underwear had a red spot. And then things went blurry. My knees burned, and I realized I was on all fours. Everything sounded distant, but through the deafening incoherent mumbling, I watched as Bobby was loaded onto the back of the ambulance.
I reached out for him as people circled me, trying to help. But they weren't helping, they were letting those people take the best part of me away. They were letting those people rip me in two. I couldn't leave him. I couldn't let them take him from me.
A wave of nausea hit me like a baseball bat to the stomach and I retched so hard it hurt. I hoped it would kill me. I didn't want to live on a planet again were Bobby Lightly didn't exist.
Hands reached for me, and I fought them. Scratching. Clawing. A sharp prick in my arm contrasted with the haziness of the scene around me. And then everything became warm until there was nothing.
It only took a few seconds after I woke up for me to start shouting for Bobby.
A nurse ran over to me. Told me it was the middle of the night and I was disturbing the other patients.
“Bobby—Robert—Lightly. Is he okay?” I pleaded frantically.
“I don't know who that is ma'am,” she answered stoically.
“Please . . . call the police or the—someone must know in this hospital,” I cried.
I glanced out the window behind me at the ink black night. I didn't know how long I had been sedated.
“Your sister is on her way. Please calm down.”
“I don't want to fucking calm down!” I shouted. “Bobby Lightly. Bobby Lightly. Bobby Lightly!” I chanted his name over and over. As if I could summon him. Other nurses hurried over and held me down. “Let go!” I shouted. I flailed as they strapped me to my bed. I didn't feel the prick of the needle this time, but a warmth came over me. Under any other circumstances, it would have felt nice, to have that tingling in my veins, lulling me into my own personal night. But I didn't want to waste time if Bobby was still alive. I needed to be by his side.
“Bobby . . . Lightly . . . Bob . . .” I muttered before the warmth cloaked me in darkness.
Opening my eyes hurt this time. The sun was bright and a stark contrast to blackness that had been my world since I collapsed on the motel parking lot. I squinted at the blurry figure sitting to my left. I made her out slowly as the fuzzy edges sharpened. Pinned-up ashen blonde hair, freckled cheeks, hazel eyes. My sister and I were so different, even down to the way we looked. Me, with my chestnut hair and copper brown eyes. Though I had a few freckles, I browned in the sun. She was always one to sit in the shade. She couldn't last ten minutes without turning red.
“Julia?” I choked out.
She leaned in. “Shhhh . . . I'm going to get a nurse,” she whispered softly.
I gripped her forearm, and she looked me, shocked. I remembered the restraints and wondered why they were no longer on. I assumed it was Julia's doing.
“Bobby . . . is he okay?” I asked.
“I should get a doctor first.”
“Tell me,” I demanded through a clenched jaw.
My sister looked at me with tender eyes. It was a rare moment. She shook her head.
“No. No. No. No . . .” I sobbed. “It can't be true . . . you're lying . . .” I cried. I hoped this was some ploy to separate us.
Julia quickly looked around, hoping to get a doctor's attention as my fingers sunk into her arm with no concern for her comfort. “He died in the ambulance. I’m sorry.” She grimaced from a mixture of physical and emotional anguish.
I wanted out. Out of this hospital. Out of my skin. Out of this world. I wanted not to be myself. I wanted to be wherever Bobby was.
I jolted up, reaching for the IV.
“No!” Julia shouted, grabbing for my hand. “I need a nurse!” she shouted. She hushed her tone and looked me in the eyes. “Lilly. Lilly. If you don't calm down they will tie you and sedate you again.”
“I don't care!” I screamed as nurses made their way to me.
“Just — just give me a second,” my sister commanded. She had a presence about her. Serious. Authoritative. It was one of the reasons she and I rarely clicked. Sometimes she felt more like a mother than our mother did. The nurses paused. “Lilly, please just breathe,” she begged.
But I didn't want to breathe. I didn't want to exist. I wanted to go back into the darkness. To the warm hug of the sedatives. Maybe I would see Bobby there.
“I want to see him!” I shouted, trying to leave my bed. The nurses swarmed in and gave me what I needed.
“From what we can tell, it's still the case . . .” The doctor's hushed voice lulled me out of my sleep.
I watched his tall blur, in a white coat, speaking down to Julia, her dress a fog of blues, reds, and purples.
“I'm not sure we should tell her yet . . . she's in no condition,” my sister suggested.
This time when I tried to sit up, the restraints were still on. “What?” I croaked.
They both looked down at me.
My sister let out a big sigh and marched over to me. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Tell me what?” I asked, fighting to stay focused amidst the haze.
“You should rest. There's no rush.”
“I'm not an idiot,” I snapped. “Doctor—what is still the case?” I asked.
He gave my sister a look of concern. She nodded subtly. He turned to face me with his arms crossed and cleared his throat.
“I, um . . . you were brought to the hospital because of some vaginal bleeding. We performed some tests and discovered you are pregnant.”
I heard the breath escape my lungs as I sank further into the bed as if I was a spectator outside of my own body. “Are?” I asked.
“Yes. Your bleeding was heavy enough to be cause for concern. However, it is not unusual for women this early into pregnancy to experience some form of bleeding. There was no tissue in the blood, which is what we see with a miscarriage. You also haven’t bled since. From what we can tell . . . you are still pregnant. But it’s very early. We cannot hear a heartbeat yet. And we aren’t one-hundred percent sure why this happens. Some women just have a scare, sometimes it’s indicative of something serious later in the pregnancy. The head trauma and the stress of your recent experience may have exacerbated the issues. You will need to see your regular physician to monitor this pregnancy closely. Any early bleeding puts you in a higher risk category, which is why I want to make sure you understand while our tests show you are pregnant, we have to be cautious here.”
“How early?”
“Well, the heartbeat comes in at around six weeks. Examining you, I’d guess at most, four weeks. Probably three. But there’s no way to be sure.”
I did the mental math. I hadn’t completed sex with Rory since before my last period about a month ago. My chest collapsed when I realized what this meant. What I already knew but hadn't allowed myself to take on because of the magnitude of the news, until the doctor confirmed it. No matter how much I gasped, the air that left my lungs would not come back.
“Please . . . I can't . . . breathe . . .” I stuttered. Maybe Julia was right. Maybe I wasn’t ready to learn this information.