I found this written in the back of one of my old diaries and thought it was worth sharing. I have only embellished it very slightly from how I originally wrote it back in 2000.
I wake up in hospital surrounded by machines and listen to the steady beeps of the heart monitor. It's very bright and I can't see much else except the lights. I hear a slightly fuzzy voice very calmly saying my name.
After blinking several times the room comes into focus a little. I can see a nurse and proceed to ask her how long I've been here.
"Three months." Comes her reply. "You were in an accident."
An accident? I remember it, a flash of Adrian's car bumper coming straight for me. I can almost hear his brakes squeal and the thump of it striking my head, the pain.
"You've been in a coma."
Three months? I can't have been here three months. Surely it only happened last week.
Suddenly exhausted I close my eyes, the sound of the heart monitor slipping away as I pass out.
Coming round again an unknown length of time later I keep my eyes closed this time and listen.
There are people audibly talking next to my bed or is it just one person?
"I am in so much trouble over this." The person is saying.
I recognise the voice. It's Adrian.
"I know you've been calling out my name and I can't think why." He goes on, clearly under the assumption that I am still asleep or comatose. "Alistair convinced me to come and see you, but I don't know what he was thinking. I can hardly bear to look at you."
His voice falters and his hand slips into one of mine. I fight the urge to squeeze it back.
"I'll never speed in a car park again. Claire, please be alright. I know you were hit by a car in the past and you made a full recovery then. Please pull through again. You are so pretty and kind and it would just be a tragedy to waste all you've got to offer the world."
I want to say something, but hold my tongue, waiting to hear more.
"The people at work, some won't even look me in the eye any more. What the hell were you doing crouched in the middle of the car park in the pouring rain anyway? Did you want to get killed?" Adrian says, frustration I didn't know he harboured showing.
That's rich, blaming me like that.
"I can't believe you were in my way in the first place. If you die I will probably get charged with causing death by dangerous driving and will never see my girlfriend again. The police are holding back from charging me at the moment and the suspense is killing me."
"That's a bit extreme Adrian." I croak, finally opening my eyes and smiling at him. "I'm not planning on going anywhere just yet."
He jumps to his feet, looking at me wide eyed as if I just rose from a coffin.
"I didn't realise you were awake." He gasps.
"Relax Ad." I say softly.
"What do you remember?"
"Pretty much nothing." I croak, attempting another smile and coughing from speaking with such a dry throat. "I have no idea what day it is or what happened, only that you hit me."
He tentatively offers me some water from the cup at my bedside.
"Thanks." I sigh after drinking some and reach for his hand. "One of my wonderful qualities is that I'll forgive you because I like you and I know you didn't hit me on purpose."
"I ran you over Claire." He says, grimacing and pulls his hand away. "When you say it that way you make it sound like I physically struck you."
"Sorry Adrian." I smile slightly as an afterthought, amused by the intimation. "I didn't know that was the better option."
"No, I'm sorry." He says in earnest. "How do you feel?"
Drowsy and kind of like my head has been used as a rugby ball."
He grimaces again, still on his feet and looking like he is about to rush from the room at any second.
"Do the doctors think I'll be alright?"
Instead of answering he turns his back on me and I see him raise a hand up to his face.
"What's wrong with my Adrian?" I say, feeling panicky now.
"I'm not party to much of that information but I do know that your legs-" He says, breaking off.
The way his low voice is broken and unable to complete the sentence sends my mind into overdrive, conjuring up worst case scenarios. Looking down at my body, covered by hospital bedsheets, it is hard to identify any major differences.
"What?" I say. "What did you do to me?"
"Your knees are fractured and your stomach is severely damaged." He finally says, pausing for a moment before continuing, obviously crying now. "You'll probably never walk again and the trauma to your reproductive organs is so great you will never be able to bear children."
Feeling numb, I stare at his back for a moment. Surely he's not serious. The doctors are bound to rubbish what he says, aren't they?
"No." I shake my head, his raw emotions bringing tear to my eyes. "No, no, no, no, no. Adrian you're lying to me. Tell me it's not true."
"I'm sorry Claire." He sobs.
"No." I scream, crying in earnest.
Covering my eyes with one hand, I reach the other out to touch him. He is still close and despite the situation I need to feel the reassurance of his presence.
I feel him start at my touch.
"Hold me Adrian." I sob, tugging on his hand.
I feel the need for physical comfort from somebody, still bearing him no ill.
"I need you."
"I need to go." He whispers, still crying. "I can't live with myself after I've ruined your life like this."
"I'm alive aren't I?" I say, pulling forcefully on his hand.
He says nothing, but unbalanced, he plops onto the bed next to me.
I sit forward slightly, feeling sudden barbs of pain rippling through my torso at the movement and gasp.
Adrian finally looks at me again, his face a sheen of grief. He pushes me back into the pillows.
"Take it easy." He says, frowning so deeply you'd think someone had sewn his face into that expression. "You're far from ready to leave let alone get out of bed."
I lean my head on one of his arms, still waiting for the waves of pain to wear off.
"I'll never be able to have children." I sob. "I'll probably never walk again."
If the damage is as bad as he says, I'm assuming that is a high possibility too.
He pulls away from me, stroking my hair as he does so and backs away.
"I should not have come." He says, wiping his face. "I thought I had to see for myself that you were semi okay. At the time I was sure I'd killed you, but this was a mistake."
"Don't leave." I say, still crying and reach out for him.
He backs into the doorway, shaking his head.
"I'm so sorry." He says, obviously speaking from the heart. "I'll never forgive myself."
Then he is gone. That's the last time I ever see him.
This is a diary, the online public kind. Anything you read here either involves me somehow or is something I care about.