Part 2 - Off to Hospital

"Alexandria, I need you to wake up." I heard a small voice from very far away. I think it was a woman. But it wasn't Jordana, not my Jordana.

Where was she? Oh, that's right, she wasn't there. I spoke to her on the phone I think.

"Come on honey, squeeze my hand." That action wasn't worth the agony of the effort.

"She said her name was Al, maybe you should use the shortened version." A man's voice this time, but Jordana was the only one who called me Al. Wait, he said 'she said'. He spoke to Jordana.

Jordana! I needed to see her.

Everything hurt. She'd make it all better.

I tried to open my eyes but all that did was make a tear slide down my cheek.

So much pain. I couldn't even tell where it was coming from.

The man saw the tear, but the woman dismissed it and said I still wasn't responding. I felt like screaming but I couldn't.

Then I heard him again.

"Al,� Al please squeeze my hand� I'm meeting Jordana at the hospital and I want to be able to tell her some good news." He was whispering in my ear. It tickled a little.

I felt his hand in my left hand and squeezed with all my might. There was a light squeeze back and I knew he'd tell Jordana all that I couldn't.

It was hard to breathe again and blood was still coming into my mouth.

"Blood," I strained to speak.

"Shit," that was the man again. I thought that I could definitely like this guy.

I felt a sharp pain in my already very sore chest then it was a little easier to breathe.

I squeezed the hand again not caring for the pain, only thinking of Jordana, before it pushed me back into the darkness.

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I hung up the phone and stared at it for a full five minutes before I managed to pick it back up and dial my parents.

They call it shock when your body acts automatically. So I guess that's what this was, shock. There was a numbness in my limbs and an aching in my soul. My Al,� my world,� my everything could be taken away from me. It was too much to think about.

I was thankful when my dad answered the phone, because mum would have been hysterical. I related everything that had happened. I felt like I was watching someone else do it.

Dad convinced me not to drive to the hospital myself. He said he would pick me up. Mum promised to call Al's family and a couple of friends to pass on the news.

I waited at the end of our driveway for dad to arrive. I mostly stared into space, trying not to let myself think. I concentrated on staying upright and not crying.

When dad appeared, he popped the passenger door from inside the car. He didn't say anything and he didn't try to hug me, knowing it would probably shatter the thin control I had.

The drive was quiet and fast. Dad may have broken the sound barrier on the way and I was extremely grateful.

When we got to the desk at Emergency, I couldn't form the words so dad asked about Al for me. The nurse directed us to a lounge area behind the security counter and told us Al was in surgery. I dreaded what those words might mean.

There was a man in the lounge. He was wearing black leather shoes, versace jeans and a grey mossimo shirt. He looked ready for a night on the town except for the blood.

He stood and smiled at me. "Jordana." It was a question really.

I nodded, "Graham?"

He nodded back and grinned. I felt better already but I had to ask.

"She's ok?" Please let her be. A lump formed in my throat and the tears sprang to my eyes once again.

"I think she will be." He stated positively. "She's fighting for you."

Continued...