Loryl
It was the beeping from the machines that I always heard first. Like some morbid alarm clock every time I woke up in a hospital bed. As my eyes opened, I saw the blurry silhouette of three individuals sitting in the hospital room with me. After a few seconds, everything came into focus. My mom and dad were sitting side by side at the window holding hands and speaking low. To my right, my manager, Richie, had his laptop out and was busy typing away.
Oh god. The memories of the concert came flooding back. I took a sharp breath when I recalled how Brian had been ripped limb from limb.
My mother was the first to notice my consciousness. Her normally maintained auburn hair was stuck to her cheeks, a sign that she had been crying. "Jim, she's awake." My mom quickly stood up and moved to my side. "Hey, honey." There were fresh tears in her eyes. "You need to take it easy. The doctor said you might have some internal damage that they are still testing for."
My father came around to the other side of my bed and was doing a terrible job at holding back his tears. His skinny face was tight as he used every shred of strength to keep it together. "How's my little rock star? Richie," my dad said turning to my manager, "can you go get the doctor?"
Richie seemed a bit on edge, barely looking at me before he was out of the door. Both of my parents held my hands and smiled down at me. My body was a little stiff and achy but I still managed to sit up. "How long was I out?" I was almost scared of the answer, but they both seemed to relax a little.
My dad pushed back his blonde hair and wiped his tears away. "A little less than a day.”
Mom sniffled and gently squeezed my hand. “It was touch and go there for a little while, sweetheart, but we knew you would pull through.”
A click came from the door as it opened before the doctor stepped in. His features were alarming as he didn’t look much older than me, but that didn’t bother me nearly as much as the arrogant look of confidence on his face. “Miss--.” He took a quick look at the clipboard of papers in his hand before double-checking it. “Huh. Well, that’s some irony if I’ve ever seen some.”
I felt my face twist with aggravation as he chuckled. “What exactly is it that you find funny, doctor?”
His smirk disappeared when he saw me clench my fists. “Well, um,” he stammered looking at my parents who both looked worried for him. “Your last name is Welburn and the stadium, well, burned.” He knew he had messed up. My parents knew he had messed up.
His only saving grace was that I had no idea what he was talking about. My anger receded as I thought back to the previous night. The memories of whatever those black monsters were made my skin crawl but I didn’t remember seeing any flames. “What about…weren’t there any…” My thoughts trailed away as I started to zone out.
Dr. Stole cleared his throat as he pulled out one of those tiny flashlight things. “Loryl,” he said moving closer and bending down to my eye level. “We’ve been running every possible test on you but there are a number of things that could’ve happened to you from a concussion to smoke inhalation not to mention the psychological trauma you probably experienced.”
My confusion was only growing. “Smoke inhala--.”
The doctor turned on the little flashlight and started examining my eyes. “Just keep looking forward for me.”
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The light moved side to side and that's when I finally remembered it. “The fire! Oh my God, There was a woman!” My eyes immediately began to fill with tears as my mom pushed everyone aside to get her arms around me. “She was burning right in front of me!”
Mom rubbed my back while trying to comfort me. “It’s okay, honey. You’re safe now.”
My mind was filling with memories of the woman I had seen. Her alabaster skin crisping and then burning from the flames. The way her silky blonde hair quickly became ablaze. “You don’t know! She was screaming. And the smell!” My sobs were coming in and out hard.
***
I don’t know when the doctor left or when my manager, Richie, came back in. I don't know how long I had been crying into my mom’s shoulder but when I finally stopped, the sun was down and the moon was up.
Mom pulled back, her eyes as wet as mine. “Are you feeling better sweetheart?”
I didn't have any words, but still wiped my eyes before taking a deep breath to nod. To my right, Ritchie’s face looked like he was going to explode soon. “For God’s sake, Richie. Just say whatever it is. I’m fine now.”
His eyes were wide and a little nervous. “Listen, just hear me out before you say anything.” He breathed out a heavy sigh. “The internet is all over this. You’ve been trending on social, non-stop. And I know you. I know you’re going to want to get in front of this. For your fans. For the people who were injured and for the families who lost loved on--.”
I vigorously nodded my head in agreement. “Well, yeah. It was awful. People were hurt and killed at my show!”
My mom gently squeezed my hand before Richie continued. “I hear you and normally I would say absolutely because this is a prime time to get some amazing press, but, my rising star, you have just been through some serious trauma. That combined with this media storm could leave you mentally untethered and it’s much too early in your career to have an epic breakdown for the world to see because all eyes will be on you. Not to mention there is a massive investigation involving the FBI over whatever happened. So, needless to say, you gotta lay low.”
I didn’t care what Richie said. However, my parents knew exactly what I was feeling and they knew exactly how to get me to comply.
My dad stepped forward and actually bent down by my bed to plead with me. “Please, baby. Please. Just take a little time. A few weeks at least. You have no idea how worried your mother and I were for you. If you don’t want to do this for you, just do it for us. Please? Just a little peace of mind.”
Well, that just broke me. “Alright, daddy. For you and mommy, I’ll take it easy for a little while. But--.” I turned to Richie and pointed a finger right at him. “You better plan on getting in front of this soon because I’m not about to sit on my--.”
He let out a chuckle like he couldn’t hold it in. “Oh, honey. I already have strategies for strategies. We are going to work this catastrophe but I need you at a thousand percent, doll-face.”
I quickly narrowed my eyes. “Don’t call me 'doll-face.”
Ritchie vigorously nodded as he recognized my “don’t-screw-with-me-right-now” face.
***
It didn’t feel that late and normally I would’ve slept till the morning, but my body had had enough sleep to last a day or two. I found my phone on the food tray table to my left. The first thing on my screen was a text from my parents letting me know they had arrived at the hotel and would be back in the morning.
I had just pulled up Google when I saw him. The hospital room was dark but I could still see his dark shadowy outline in the corner. There was nothing close enough for me to throw other than my phone. I was about to scream for a nurse when he stepped out.
He was so little, no more than five. It only took a second for me to recognize the little boy from the stadium. “What are you doing here? Are your parents here in the hospital too?”
He didn’t say anything but his eyes started to water. My heart broke just looking at him. I leaned forward and reached my hand out for him to come toward me.
The little boy hesitated at first before stepping forward and putting his tiny hand in mine. The moment his little fingers touched my palm, my whole body went numb. I fell back onto the bed as my mind filled with image after image. One after another, they flashed by too fast to make sense. I could hear saxophones and trumpets in my ears. My nostrils filled with the smell of seafood. My senses were being bombarded before the images finally settled on a street sign. I took a deep breath as everything finally returned to normal and I opened my eyes. “Bourbon Street?”