I open my eyes slowly and blink the blurriness away. I can hear the beeping sound around me and it was starting to annoy me. I can smell the disinfectant used to clean this room; the blurriness clears after a couple of seconds. I am in the hospital; my bed sits next to the window looking out onto the highway. I am hooked onto a heart monitor; I have an IV line and bag in my right hand with an antibiotic bag that has its own line hooked into the first one. I have a gastric feeding tube pushing nutrients into my stomach.
My mother really did a number on me. I stay quiet enjoying the silence while I can and stare out the window, willing my brain to shut off. How did I survive and why? Why can't I have a break? Is that too much to ask? "She is awake." I hear someone say outside my door. The more I look outside and think about everything the angrier I get. I can feel it burning a hole through me, my chest tightens, and I can feel it rushing through my veins. I take a deep breath trying to calm the rushing inferno inside of me.
An attempt I quickly notice become futile. It is like trying to tame a raging wildfire with only one bucket of water. I can smell them before they even open the door to my room. Each scent making my stomach flip in disgust. "Hello, I am Doctor Donate can you tell us your name?" she asks as she checks my vitals. I hiss in pain when she flashes my eyes with her flashlight and I sooth them with the palm of my hands. "Analiah Sandoval, how did I get here?" I ask.
They look between themselves and the doctor pulls as chair up close to me. "You were brought here in an ambulance. Someone found you by a river, you were brutally beaten…" I chuckle humorlessly. No kidding, my mother tried to kill me, and I know for sure she will not stop until she succeeds. "The state of your injuries was so severe, that we had to put you into an induced coma to let your body rest and heal on its own. That was six months ago." She says and waits for my reaction.
I stare at her blankly and shrug my shoulders. What did they want me to do? Cry? Did that, it did not solve anything, and it sure did not gain me any sympathy from them. Scream? Yeah, did that too it only infuriated them more. I tilt my head staring at them waiting for the rest. "Three months after your arrival we took you off the medication keeping you in the coma and tried to wake you, but you fell into a real coma. You did not have anything wrong with your health, that we made sure of because we ran all tests possible and all came back clear.
We think it was your body trying to protect itself. We called the police for you, they will be here soon, they wanted to speak to you as soon as you were awake." She says waiting for me to answer. I nod and look back out the window. The nurses took the heart monitor off and the folly catheter. They disconnected the feeding bag and turned the machine off. Once I was alone, I throw the sheets off me and pull myself out of the bed. I hold onto the railing for the room to stop spinning.
My legs feel weak confirming what the doctor just told me. I need a shower, I stink, I wait a couple of seconds before walking slowly towards the bathroom. I reach my hands out for the wall and lean my weight into it as I make my way towards the bathroom. I lock the door after me and turn the faucet as hot as possible. I peal the disgustingly filthy rags they had me wearing and I look at myself. There is not a bruise in site, I forgot how my body looked like without them.
I have new scars on me along with the old ones, the gastric feeding tube looks disgusting, it smells foul and its leaking a strange liquid. I scrub my skin raw from all the filth and wash my hair. All the products I needed to clean myself and brush my teeth were inside the bathroom, for which I'm thankful for. I take my time drying myself and getting dressed in the clothes they provided. I untangle my hair with the comb that is in the bathroom, I brush my teeth a couple of times and walk out.
"My poor baby!"
My mother comes running towards me, I frown in confusion and anger. I pull my fist back and swing it towards her face breaking her nose in the process. It was an automatic impulse; I don't want them anywhere near me. Her scream of pain brings the nurses barging in, she holds her nose to stop the blood from flowing out and sits on the floor where she fell. The doctor looks on in shock as the nurses aid my mother. She looks at me, as if she is seeing another person in my place, I have never lifted my hand to her not even to defend myself from them.
I will not be their punching bag anymore and I will definitely start fighting back now. The nurses clean my mother and bandage her up. She is lucky I only punched her once, with all the pent-up anger I feel, all I want to do is bash her brains in until I see her bleed. I want her blood to run down my arms as I beat it out of her like she did to me on so many occasions, to splash all over my face as mine decorated hers. I hold back and tighten my fist to my side to the point where I can feel my nails penetrate my skin.