“Alna!” Marianna screamed, her voice lost in the screeching of sirens. She threw herself forward, twisted side to side, trying to get to Alna, for crying out loud. She was distantly aware of pain shooting down the length of her left arm as the metal dug into her shoulder. She barely comprehended Ms. Ashworth’s frantic cussing.

What she did process, however, was a gun swinging in her direction. She barely shifted out of the way before a bullet whizzed past her head. Her heart pounded, her ears rang, and she realized there was a new cut on her forehead.

That had been way too close, Marianna thought. Her mind sharpened as distress flooded her systems once more. As more shots were fired––both from the dysfunctional duo and the police, her mind supplied––Marianna craned her neck, only leaning back when the pain in her shoulder became unbearable.

She needed to see Alna, needed to make sure she was all right. She’d screamed in pain after falling out of sight. What if…. Oh God oh God oh God. Marianna couldn’t think about that.

But she couldn’t see Alna, and she wasn’t making a sound. Oh, God.

Marianna’s attention was diverted somewhat when there was another shout of pain, this time from Ms. Ashworth. The crazed woman fell to a kneeling position, face scrunched as she clutched at her leg, blood seeping between her fingers. Marianna watched a few more seconds, barely noticing as Mr. Cope seemed to give up easily after his boss was felled. She turned again, trying to spot Alna, when––

“Miss?” asked a masculine voice.

Marianna turned, and, sure enough, a police officer was standing right outside the driver’s window. She gave him a blank stare, her thoughts turning slow and sluggish now that everything had seemed to calm down somewhat. The ringing in her ears continued, less forceful than before.

Marianna felt suddenly weak, somehow holding onto her panic at the same time. Her throat tightened, the world blurred into a kaleidoscope of red and blue, and her pulse pounded in her ears. She felt hot and cold at the same time. Past the man, a female police officer led Ms. Ashworth and Mr. Cope out the gaping hole in the gas station’s wall.

And, as the policewoman talked about attorneys and the right to remain silent, and someone said something about shock, Marianna panicked.

“Alna,” she mumbled. “Where’s Alna?” she asked, twisting around. She just about broke down and wept when she saw a stretcher and two EMTs bending down to lift her up. Without thinking, Marianna tried to strain closer. “I have to––”

A hand settled itself on the car door, where the window had once been. This time, Marianna jerked in surprise, gasping as fire seemed to travel down the length of her arm. She had enough awareness to process the soft, soothing voice speaking to her but couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes away from Alna.

She looked so… Marianna had never thought she would apply the word “weak” to the sometimes robotic girl, but that was all she could think of at that moment. Alna was limp and unresponsive on the stretcher, not one flicker of her eyes giving even the smallest sign she was aware of what was going on. Her arms had to be arranged by the EMTs so they didn’t hang off the edge of the stretcher.

Alna was always pale; even blood loss didn’t seem to change her overall complexion. So much of it. Blood, that is. It had soaked through what was left of the bottom half of her right jean leg. The cut fabric flapped open, giving Marianna an unobstructed view of Alna’s calf.

The sight was enough to make Marianna’s stomach roil. One long cut ran up the length of Alna’s calf, leaving a bloody mess in its wake. She’d watched as Alna had inflicted the cut on herself, but somehow, now that she was being rushed into an ambulance, it seemed so much worse.

Marianna’s gaze was torn away from her girlfriend––mostly because Alna had finally been loaded into an ambulance. Immediately, Marianna’s anxiety spiked. It was bad enough that Alna was injured, but not having her within sight made everything much worse.

“Miss,” said a new voice. A woman’s.

“I need to get to Alna” was Marianna’s only response. She started to struggle, only for the woman to speak again.

“Miss, I’m going to get you out of there, okay? Will you let me do that?”

“I––” Marianna said, eyes darting between the ambulance and the woman’s calm face. Her entire demeanor was gentle and relaxing, never once hinting at a sense of urgency.

One of the police cars had already driven off, Marianna noted. And now she needed to make sure Alna made it to the hospital. “Okay.”

Somehow still exuding calm, the woman hefted a tool into view. She commanded Marianna to remain still and began to cut at the metal embedded in Marianna’s shoulder, narrating her actions as she did so. There were snowflakes in the woman’s hair, Marianna noted.

Marianna’s arm had gone numb in the last… Whatever minutes. She doubted that was a good thing but couldn’t bring herself to care all that much. Alna was more important right now. Besides, the respite from the pain wasn’t exactly unwelcome.

Before Marianna could process it, the woman was removing the metal from Marianna’s shoulder, causing a brief flare of pain, before her arm numbed again. When the door opened with a reluctant groan a minute later, Marianna undid her seatbelt and tumbled out of the truck in her eagerness to get to Alna. The woman supported her, and it was only then Marianna realized with a sickening jolt that the ambulance Alna was in had disappeared. A second one that Marianna hadn’t bothered to acknowledge stood waiting.

Marianna almost lost it; mumbled about Alna and needing to see her. She looked at their surroundings, half hoping to see the ambulance Alna was in. The woman guiding Marianna to the other ambulance spoke quietly, assuring her she would see her “friend” again soon. Marianna wasn’t even coherent enough to correct her.

The ride to the hospital was a blur of piercing sirens, an orange blanket being settled on her shoulders, and staring at the mess her arm had become. Some distant, more rational part of Marianna’s brain noted that the cut in her shoulder was deep enough to potentially be a concern. The persistent numbness certainly was. However, Marianna seemed to have fallen into a passive daze. When she surfaced from it at brief intervals, the only thing that she could bring herself to care about was Alna.

Sometime later found Marianna sitting on a hospital bed in what she presumed was in the emergency room. She didn’t even remember arriving.

“I’m just going to numb your arm,” the kind, balding doctor explained. Marianna blinked at him, some corner of her mind screaming bloody murder.

The doctor didn’t ask her permission before he injected the needle into the crook of her elbow, although he talked her through it, explaining everything in microscopic detail. Marianna wondered if she should tell the doctor that the numbing agent was unnecessary.

Too late. He was already pulling the needle out of her arm. She wasn’t in the mood for talking, anyway.

***

It wasn’t until the doctor stitched up her shoulder and cleaned her arm of blood that Marianna’s daze finally seemed to recede for good.

“I need to see Alna,” Marianna demanded, trying to sound authoritative. Her voice wavered, tinged with exhaustion, undermining her intention.

“Are you family?” the doctor asked, wrapping a sling around her arm.

Marianna almost told Doctor Brown (according to his name tag) that she was Alna’s sister. Or cousin. But with the ordeal they had both done through, the last thing Marianna wanted was to get caught in a lie. And so, she admitted, “No, I’m her girlfriend.”

“I’m sorry, Miss…” Doctor Brown looked at her expectantly. Marianna wondered if the police had ID’d them yet.

“Whitlock,” she said. “Marianna Whitlock.” She could already see the rejection coming.

“I’m sorry, Miss Whitlock, but we only allow family to visit patients.”

Yeah, Marianna bet he was so sorry.

For a moment, she thought about fighting him, but realized that it would be pointless.

“Fine,” Marianna snapped, letting her displeasure ooze unchecked into her voice. “But can I at least make a phone call?”

Doctor Brown agreed, and a minute later a nurse with short brown hair and the name Susan printed on her name tag came in with a landline. Marianna couldn’t even remember the last time she had used one of those.

“Hello?” Mrs. Holt answered after four rings.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“Mrs.––Mrs. Holt,” Marianna choked out, her eyes filling with tears. Oh, God, how was she supposed to do this? How was she supposed to tell this woman, who had been nothing but kind to her, that Alna was in a hospital?

“Mary?” asked Mrs. Holt, starting to sound concerned. There was a slight shuffling, and then, “Why are you–– Oh, God, are you okay?” Her voice heightened in pitch, becoming panicked. “Is something wrong with Alna? Tell me she’s all right.”

“There was an accident,” Marianna explained, tears rolling down her cheeks as she blinked. “I haven’t seen Alna in a while.”

“We’ll be right over. Ten minutes,” Mrs. Holt said, her tone brisk with a hint of a tremor. The dial tone sounded before Marianna could say anything else.

Marianna pulled the phone away from her ear, allowing her hand to fall to her side. And, with a start, her heart jumped, picking up its tempo.

She hadn’t told her which hospital they were in. She didn’t even know which hospital they were in.

Marianna fumbled with the phone, desperate to call back––

Wait, stop. Relax. The hospital’s name must have appeared on the Holts’ phone, meaning Mrs. Holt would know which one to show up at.

That calmed her down a bit.

Marianna remained agreeable as the same nurse from earlier came in and led her out of the ER. She thought about trying to persuade the woman to allow her to see Alna but doubted she’d have any more luck than before. With reluctance, she pushed the idea away.

She was led to a room that contained at least five other patients, making her feel like she was entering a place of impending doom. She tried not to stare at the frail woman hooked up to some machine of some sort. If she had to guess, she thought it might be life support.

Marianna settled into her bland hospital bed without resistance. Susan placed a glass of water that she had been carrying on the bedside table and explained to Marianna that she would stay here for the time being. According to the nurse, she would likely only have to stay here a few days, if that. At least until her parents came to check her out––

For a moment, everything froze. Marianna gave Susan a shaky nod and a hopefully reassuring smile before she sat still, staring at her retreating form blankly.

The sudden realization hit her with the force of a tsunami: during everything that had happened in the past two or three hours, Marianna hadn’t thought about her parents. Not once. She hadn’t even thought to call them to say she was in the hospital.

What kind of daughter did that make her?

Marianna didn’t know the answer to that question, but she knew the cause for her forgetfulness. The amount of tension at home was so thick that Marianna had once, half deliriously, thought about trying to cut it with a knife.

Marianna wondered when her parents stopped being the first people she went to when she had a problem.

That didn’t matter. She had to call them. Marianna shifted, placed her feet on the floor and stood up, only for a sudden wave of dizziness to force her back down. She swallowed down the sudden need to vomit.

Right, Marianna thought with wry humor. The blood loss.

It took Marianna a few minutes to regain her equilibrium before she once again attempted to stand up. Same results. She sat down once more in defeat, wishing that the world would stop spinning already.

When a third attempt gave her another dizzy spell, Marianna finally laid back against her pillows in defeat. An older woman in the bed next to her gave her an odd look.

“Why don’t you use the button?” the woman said in a rasping whisper. Marianna jumped a little.

“The what?” Marianna asked, blinking at the frail woman.

“The button,” she repeated, pointing at something hanging next to Marianna’s bed. Sure enough, a large, plastic button hung there. “It’ll let the nurses know you need help.”

“Oh.” Marianna stared at the button and blushed––then felt surprised she even had enough blood and energy to do so. “Thanks.”

I’m still out of it, Marianna thought as she pushed the button. She gave the lady a whisper of a smile.

Another nurse came in less than thirty seconds after Marianna had pushed the button. He agreed to Marianna’s request for a phone, and in under two minutes, Marianna tried to make her second phone call in under fifteen minutes. “Tried” turned out to be the operative word, as her mother didn’t pick up, leading Marianna to leave a message.

Marianna’s father, however, did pick up.

“Hello?”

“Dad––”

“Just what kind of bullshit are you trying to play, Marianna?” her dad demanded heatedly.

What?

“Listen, Dad––” she tried again.

“I swear, if this is another grab for attention, you’re grounded until fucking graduation. And don’t think you’ll be allowed to see that girl, either.” He spat the word “girl” like it was a curse.

Had he even looked at the display? Probably not.

“Seriously, Dad,” Marianna said, both attempting to be heard over his ranting and trying not to disturb the other patients by speaking too loudly. “I need you to listen to me––”

“No, you listen to me. You don’t get to just skip school like that.” Fair enough. “I won’t stand by while you ruin your––”

“Dad, I’m in the hospital!” Marianna finally snapped, cutting her father off. She did not need this right now. Not with her mind rebelling against her and her girlfriend in possible critical condition.

On instinct, she tried to raise her left hand to rub her forehead, only to be reminded of the presence of the sling.

The silence on the other end was deafening. “My God,” Dad breathed out. “What happened? Are you all right? What happened?” With every question, Marianna could hear her father breathing become heavier, his voice becoming more strained.

“I’m okay.” Lie. “I just…Dad, I need my parents right now. Can you come? Please?”

She was surprised by how much she meant that. It felt as if her parents hadn’t been around for quite some time. A lump formed in her throat.

“Your mother and I will be right over. Which––which hospital are you in?”

Crap. Marianna should have tried to figure that out ages ago.

As luck would have it, the nurse from earlier was standing by the door. It occurred to Marianna that her earlier yelling might have drawn him in. She called him over before asking the hospital’s name.

“Greenland Hospital,” Marianna replied tiredly. When did that happen? She was all over the place.

“We’ll be there as soon as possible,” her father assured her. They said brief goodbyes before they both hung up.

“Is there anything else you need?” the nurse asked with clear concern as Marianna handed the phone back to him.

“No, but thank you,” Marianna told him. The nurse nodded and reminded her to push the button if she needed anything more.

That done, Marianna drained the glass of water Susan had left and leaned back against her white pillows. She could use a nap right about now.

Yeah, that sounded like a good idea…

***

Her slumber seemed to last mere minutes before Marianna was woken by the sensation of someone touching her left arm. Oddly enough, this didn’t send Marianna into a panic, despite everything that had happened. Instead, she found herself blinking groggily at Mrs. Holt’s worried face.

“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Holt apologized, drawing her hand away from Marianna. She sounded exhausted. “I didn’t mean to wake you; I just…”

Instead of finishing her sentence, Mrs. Holt straightened her posture and ran a shaking hand through her brown tresses.

“It’s okay,” Marianna mumbled. She tried to push herself into a sitting position; a rather difficult feat to accomplish with only one usable arm.

Another arm slipped behind her back and lifted her upper half slightly, while Mrs. Holt readjusted the pillow behind her. Marianna gave Mr. Holt a grateful look.

“Alna?” she asked. She could hear the shaky note in her own voice.

“She’s in surgery,” Mrs. Holt said. She made a questioning gesture at Marianna’s bed. Marianna bent her legs to allow Mrs. Holt to sit down. Mr. Holt took a seat in a chair. “They had to give her an emergency blood transfusion first.”

Marianna didn’t miss the long look shared between the two Holts before Mrs. Holt looked back at her.

“I can give you the details if you think you can handle it,” Mrs. Holt told her gently. Marianna realized she’d rested a hand on her knee––an intimate gesture that, strangely enough, didn’t seem at all out of place.

Marianna swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. She needed to know.

“Her wrist is sprained and she lost a couple of pints of blood,” Mrs. Holt started with a sigh. She passed a hand over red-rimmed eyes. Mrs. Holt looked exhausted. Both of them did. Rumpled clothing and tired eyes showed that clearly. Mrs. Holt was still wearing her white doctor’s jacket. She must have just gotten off of work.

Mrs. Holt started speaking again.

“The bullet in her arm didn’t hit anything vital, but it bled profusely. The second one…” Mrs. Holt’s voice trembled. Her husband made a strangled sound of pain and dropped his face into his hands. “It hit one of her kidneys.”

Marianna’s eyes immediately became wet. “Oh, God,” she whimpered, bringing her right hand up to cover a sob. “Oh, God.”

“She’ll pull through this,” Mr. Holt said hoarsely, bringing his head back up. His eyes held a hint of tears. “She’s always been a strong girl.”

“That’s one word I’d use to describe her,” Marianna agreed.

There was relative silence for about a minute.

“Do your parents know?” Mrs. Holt glanced toward the door as if they would magically appear. “Has someone contacted them?”

“I called them a little while ago; they should be here soon,” Marianna replied.

“Good. That’s good.”

More silence. Then, “How did you even get in here?” Marianna asked. “The doctor earlier said only families are allowed to see patients.”

“I’m a doctor,” Mrs. Holt said. “I might have exploited that a bit.” There was no humor in her voice.

“Besides, we had to know if you were okay,” Mr. Holt cut in. “Nothing would stop Vicky from seeing you.” His voice had a fond edge to it, even if it was overrun by grief.

Marianna’s throat tightened for an entirely different reason. When was the last time her parents had shown this much concern for her? Oh, sure, they’d been worried about her since her coming out but that was more concern for her “mental state.” Her father had proven he cared about her wellbeing earlier, but only after Marianna had forcefully interrupted him.

There had been none of that with Alna’s parents.

“You don’t have to stay with me.” Marianna tried to ignore that part of her that didn't want them to leave. “You should go wait for Alna or something. Or check on the boys,” she suggested, remembering she hadn’t seen a hint of Alna’s brothers since their parents had arrived.

“Colton and Evan are at a friend’s house,” Mr. Holt said. “They’re fine for now.”

“And it’ll likely be a while before we hear anything about Alna.” Mrs. Holt’s voice became strained, her hand tightening on Marianna’s knee as she fought to keep her composure. Seeming to relax somewhat, she continued, “We’re not going anywhere for the moment.”

And they didn’t go anywhere. They stayed with Marianna right up until her parents showed up minutes later.