Disclaimer- Any of the medical information in this chapter consists of what I researched and interpreted from what I was reading. If anything is incorrect, please let me know and I will fix it. no owny.
"Isabella?" I heard him call from the bathroom. I knew I had limited time before he came looking for me. While he was still preoccupied, I began running. With no heavily wooded areas nearby, which were my first choice for hiding, I decided to go the opposite way, and run as fast as I could to the nearest heavily populated area. Unfortunately, Phil has fairly fast reflexes, and as soon as he realized that I was gone, he bolted for his car. Although I was fast, because I was on the cross country team at school, I was no match for his car, especially not with the pedal to the floor. He caught up with me when I was halfway toward my destination, the mall. The worst part was the fact that I could see it. I knew I had mere seconds, so I pushed myself to my max limit. I felt him grab me around the waist, and pull me towards his car. The most unfortunate thing about my choice of destination was that although the mall would be jam packed because it was a Friday night, the streets were like a ghost town. Nobody. There weren't even any kids outside playing. Streets completely empty. Which is also why there was nobody stopping Phil as he hauled me around towards his car, and forced me in the backseat. I scrambled for the door, but he was faster. He was already in the driver's seat, and had mashed the locks down, and peeled down the street, and towards home. I already knew what was going to happen. It happened every time I tried to escape him. First he'd catch me, no matter what my method of escape was. A few times I had friends pick me up, under the pretenses of hanging out, or studying, but he always saw through it. I always "got what I deserved," as Phil put it. After he caught me, he'd either beat me, or drag me to his bedroom. The worst part of that was that I had to change the sheets afterwards. He pulled into the driveway, and started dragging me towards the kitchen. At least this way I wouldn't have to change the sheets. He threw me on the floor.
"Cook dinner, and do the dishes. Your mother will be home in a few hours." He demanded furiously. I tried to stand, but I was tired. Emotionally, physically, and mentally. "I said get going!" he thundered, stepping menacingly towards me. I tried a second time to get up, but my energy drain was astounding. I dropped my head to the floor. He kicked me very hard in the stomach, and tried to haul me to standing. I went limp in his arms, realizing at this point it was probably a bad idea, but it was already too late to matter now. He hauled me up again. I used what strength I had left to hold my head up and give him a defiant look. I saw the rage in his eyes. I should have seen it coming, but I didn't realize it until I felt the sharp sting of his palm against my cheek as my head was snapped to the side from the force of his slap. I could feel the heat from where his hand made contact with my face. I could practically see the red handprint on my face. He dropped me in horror. Usually he tried to avoid leaving marks like that on my face arms and legs, places where people might see them. He threw me down in disgust. As I fell, I scrabbled for purchase to hold myself up, so I wouldn't fall to the floor. The result was completely opposite of what I had intended. I felt, and heard the snap of the bones in my arm as I landed on my left arm with my whole weight on top of it. I gasped in pain as all my breath was exhaled from the impact. I heard Phil cursing and knocking over furniture in his anger. It was, after all, pretty much his fault, and abusing your stepdaughter wasn't exactly something you wanted to broadcast to everyone. Staggering up, I clutched my arm to my chest, feeling throbbing pain whenever I moved my arm. I made my way out to the living room, where Phil was sitting on the couch, with his head in his hands. Once he heard me, he looked up. He walked to the bathroom, and came back with some foundation. He applied it to the cheek he slapped, trying to cover the mark he made so he could bring me to the hospital to get my arm checked out. He set the makeup on the table, grabbed my elbow, and led me towards his car. The pain was really starting to set in now, hazing over my vision, and encompassing all other feelings. I vaguely felt him sit me down in the car, and buckled me in, carefully avoiding my cradled arm. He drove me to the hospital, not bothering to avoid and potholes or bumps in the road, and they just made the pain intensify. The usually seemingly long trip didn't take very long, because the pain pretty much blocked out anything else. He parked the car in the closest spot to the hospital, which wasn't very close. I heard him cursing as a car backed out of a spot closer up as he came to help me out of the car. He released the seatbelt, and that helped dim the pain a little bit. I carefully got out with his help; the jarring movements bring the pain back. I started shuffling towards the giant sign that said emergency room, as Phil shut the door behind me. He placed his hand on my upper back, directing me in the direction I was already going. Once inside the waiting room, he sat me down and went over to check me in. The pain was slowly disappearing, and then it vanished. All of the sudden, pain surged through my arm, to the point where I felt tears begin to fall down my face. It was nearly unbearable. I lifted my good arm up to wipe away the tears, but that just made the pain worse. Quickly I brought my arm back down to cradle my broken one against my chest. I realized that Phil was walking toward me, a female nurse in tow behind him. Phil sat down in an empty seat across from me, and the nurse squatted in front of me, holding a clip board with a pen and a few pieces of paper. She asked me some questions, what my pain level was, my name, and about the accident. I told her I fell down the stairs, and hoped that it corresponded with what Phil had told her. She went back to her desk, and came back, this time without the clipboard. She asked me to hold out my arm, and fastened a bracelet around my good wrist. She went back to her desk, to help some other injured people. I closed my eyes, willing the pain away. Finally, what seemed like eons later but was actually just minutes later, I heard my name called and opened my eyes. I stood up, and followed the doctor holding the clipboard that the nurse had took information down on. He led me to an examination room, where they asked more questions about the accident, if I was allergic to any medications and things like that. He told Phil that I would more than likely need a cast, but they would need to see x-rays, just to be sure. He said that luckily they hadn't been too many people today that needed to be seen in radiology, so the wait shouldn't be too long. He did a physical examination of my arm, poking, prodding and turning it, to be sure that the bone wasn't sticking out I suppose. The examination made the dulling pain come back, but once he was finished it got better. The doctor left, presumably to check on other patients that needed attention. After a while, just sitting in silence, keeping my eyes averted from Phil, who was sitting in the corner staring at me, the doctor walked back in, looking at the pager clipped onto his lab coat.
"X-ray is ready for us now. Have a seat, and we'll head down there." He said, patting the wheelchair that an orderly had wheeled in behind him. Turning to look at Phil, he said, "You can stay here and wait. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes." Phil nodded, and the doctor took the wheelchair from the orderly, and pushed me down the hallway, and into an elevator. He pushed the button labeled 4, the doors closed, and the elevator began to move up. It stopped on the next floor, and the doors opened. A young looking woman wearing light blue scrubs and a lab coat walked in, pushing a wheel chair that contained a good looking boy with an IV in his arm. He looked at me.
"Hey," he said. "I'm Jace. You look familiar. Have I seen you around before?" he asked. I looked at him shyly.
"Maybe. I go to the local high school. I'm a junior. Maybe I've seen you around school or something. Or here. It's possible, cause I seem to be here a lot." I said, joking around with this cute boy. I'm not really sure why I was talking to him like this; it was fairly unusual for me. I usually don't talk to boys, or even look at them.
He let out an adorable chuckle, his blue eyes sparkling, and said, "Probably from school. I'm a senior. I've probably seen you around the halls." All the sudden, I heard quiet arguing coming from behind us.
"No! I told you that we are done, Jonathan! I don't care if you signed the divorce papers; you never told me that you were still married in the first place!" the girl whispered angrily. The ER doctor rubbed the back of his neck, noticing the sudden lack of other conversation.
"We will continue this conversation later Mia." He said as the elevator doors opened. The girl angrily pushed Jace out of the elevator.
"Wait!" he said loudly, turning around. The girl, Mia I assumed, turned him around to face us. "What's your name?"
"Oh, I'm Bella!" I said, as the doors closed. He slipped me a piece of paper, and I held onto it. I saw him mouth my name as they turned around. The elevator continued upwards, towards radiology. The doctor chuckled nervously.
"If anyone asks, you didn't see any of that. Attendings aren't really supposed to have relationships with interns…" he said as the elevator came to a halt. The doors opened, and he pushed me out, and down a hallway. I hugged my arm closer to my chest, using the pain to bring me back to my situation. I shouldn't be laughing and having a good time with a boy! He brought me into a room, with a big machine, and a metal table. The technician lay me down on the table, and positioned my arm, apologizing for causing me pain the entire time. They took the needed images, and helped me back into the wheelchair. We rode silently back down the elevator, back to the examination room. The doctor left, mumbling something about needing to talk to someone. I smirked in my head, thinking he was talking about that Mia woman. After about half an hour, he came back in, and informed us that my arm was indeed broken, and that we needed to do more testing to make sure that none of the tissue around the break had been damaged by my fall. He said that we would have to take a CT scan. I was loaded back into the elevator in the wheelchair, and back up to the fourth floor. Mia was standing in the back of the elevator, ad I could hear my doctor pleading with her. We made it to the fourth floor, and I was brought into another room that had a big table in the middle of the room, with a giant donut shaped object. Prior to coming up, they had given me a cup to drink, they said it was a dye, and it would help them to get a better picture. They had me lay down on a table, and went into a separate room. I heard a click, and then someone told me to lay as still as possible. I did as they told me, and I began moving through the hole in the machine. I stiffened as the machine began to make buzzing, clicking and whirring noises, and they called over the intercom for me to not worry. It was over quickly, moving the table back out of the machine. They came back in the room, and helped me off the table and back into the wheelchair, and brought me back down, once again.
"Now, there was no damage to any of the tissue, but the fact still remains that her arm is broken. We need to put a cast on her arm, and in about six weeks your arm should be healed. From the scans we determined that we need to reset the bones, and since this is a teaching hospital, I have asked one of our interns to come and assist." As he said that, Mia walked in and stood in the corner of the room. He gave me a shot in my shoulder, and told me that it was a local anesthetic. They left to go get the necessary supplies, arguing softly as they did. Phil was still staring at me.
"Tell anyone what went on here, and you'll find yourself in a world of hurt." He said, looking at me. I quickly nodded, looking down. The pain in my arm was beginning to dampen a little. The two doctors came back into the room. They laid out some supplies on the table, and came over to me. Mia grasped my arm, just above my elbow, and then Jonathan took my hand, and placed his hands around my wrist, thumbs on the front of my arm, just below my wrist. And then, they both pulled. The pain intensified, and then I felt a pop. The pain suddenly decreased when I felt the pop. I breathed a sigh of relief. They then began bandaging and putting plaster on the arm. They were done in no time. After they set it, I was in very little pain, and it was deemed unnecessary to give me a prescription for painkillers. Phil had to sign some paperwork, but we were all set, with my new aqua colored cast. As we were walking out, I noticed that Mia was kissing Jonathan. It was good to know that they had come full circle and had gotten back together. We drove home, and pulled back into the driveway, as Renee was getting out of her car. She had just come home from her second job as a museum tour guide, to supplement her job as a kindergarten teacher. She gasped when she saw my blue arm.
"What happened?" she asked, running over to me.
"Mom, it's no big deal, I just fell down the stairs is all. Don't worry, I'm fine." Phil looked at his watch.
"Shoot! Sorry ladies, I've got to leave for my flight. It leaves in just over two hours. Love you Renee." He pressed a quick kiss on her lips, and ran inside the house to grab his bag. He was going to be gone for a week, and I was hoping to make my move in that time. Renee grabbed her purse, and began shuffling me into the house. I sat down at the table, and she began boiling some water to make pasta for supper.
"Mom?" I asked.
"Yes honey? What's up?" she said, stirring the pasta.
"Mom, can I go and live with dad? I mean you and Phil, you're just so happy together, and I feel bad when you have to say goodbye to him when he leaves instead of going with him. You should be able to go with him. If I go to dad, then you won't have to stay with me anymore and you and Phil can be happier. Please mom, say yes!" I said, begging her.
She thought about it for a second. "Alright… I'll see what I can do. You go on up to bed after you eat, and I'll talk to your dad and find you a flight if it's all right with him. She said, placing a bowl of pasta with tomato sauce in front of me. I smiled happily, and awkwardly dug into the food. Afterwards, I put my bowl in the sink, then went upstairs to my bedroom and did my best to put my pjs on one handed. I crawled into bed, and found a comfortable position to deal with the hard cast around my arm. A few minutes after I stopped wriggling around, just as my eyes were beginning to droop, there came a gentle knock on my door.
"Yeah?" I called, surprised by how sleepy I sounded. Renee cracked the door open.
"I talked to your dad. He agreed to you coming out, and I'm going to go look at flights. I'll talk to you tomorrow honey. Good night sweetie." She said, closing the door. I began to think about what clothes I was going to pack, and the next thing I knew was that I was dreaming of blue eyes sparkling with laughter.