A new day, a new me part 10

Sorry for taking my time, I was doing some proofreading and story arch talks with a friend. Onto part 10.

I feel groggy and completely confused; the sun is just beginning to come up by the light in the sky. I realize that I’m tasting blood and dirt, I have a sharp pain in my shoulder and I’m really cold. I figure out I’m not home in bed and today is gonna suck. I roll to my stomach and figure out I’m lying in a rock field and I have no clue where I am. I stand up and try to get my balance only to fall flat on my ass. I remember my phone in my coat pocket and pull it out to be greeted by a cracked screen, no calling for help either.

I sit for a minute trying to regain some sense of balance and as I check myself over, I’m bruised all over my ribs and back, my nose is fucking broken which is screwing with my breathing, and I’ve got some dried blood stuck to my head. I reattempt standing again and make it to my feet. Now I can see that I apparently got moved while I was unconscious and I was pretty sure I’m off the beaten path. I stop to listen for a few seconds, and then I hear car engines and tires to my left. I guess that’s the road and head off looking for a paved road.

I must have been walking for about ten minutes when I hit a road and see a Circle K. I stumble up in pain and head through the doors.

“I not want you kids messing up my store, you take your drugs and you leave right now,” I’m told as I’m guessing is the standard greeting the Indian man has.

“I’m sorry sir, I’m not on drugs. I was jumped last night and left in a field, my phone is broken can I use yours,” I reply trying to stand up straight.

He comes around the counter and usher’s me right back outside. Wonderful way to start my day, I figure out the street I’m on and start walking when I get honked at by a car.

“Hey kid, are you okay,” I get asked by some guy in a coupe.

I just shake my head no in response. The man gets out and I see he’s wearing medical scrubs as he approaches me. I let him help me into his car and as soon as he’s inside we’re off.

“Okay I’m going to take you to the hospital and from there we’ll call your parents,” the nice male nurse starts to tell me as he drives.

“No hospital, just take me home please,” I tell him resting my head on the window.

“Okay kid, my name is Jake and I hate to be the one to tell you but you’ve been smashed in the head and I’m pretty sure you didn’t notice the split in your head. Now unless you live with a doctor and his own nurse you need a hospital now,” Jake tells me in that tone adults get when they decide you’re stupid and can’t think for yourself.

I sit quietly as we pull in the hospital and Jake rushes me into the E.R. I’m welcomed to the wonderful feelings that come with an examination and interrogation since I’ve been beaten and stabbed. I keep my answers simple and don’t bother to say more than ‘I don’t know’ and ‘I can’t remember’.

It takes a half an hour and I’m getting my stitches, all seven of them, when my dad shows up at the hospital. I barely listen in when the doctor goes down my list of injuries, broken nose, small laceration on my head, mild concussion, bruised ribs and back, finally to be topped off the stitches in my head. My dad speaks with the police officers and they get information of my last known whereabouts from Dad before we pack me into his truck and head back home.

Nothing is said on the drive home, but Mom is waiting inside. Dad gets me out of the truck and inside the house all of two seconds before I have Mom hysterics raining down on my head.

“I’m not letting you head out to Korinna’s house again. I can’t believe what happened to you. What is the point of training if he gets beat up by someone in the dark,” Mom decides to deliver her exclamations to Dad and I.

“Honey, he got jumped; they hit him with a bat. I taught him a lot but I can’t teach him how to keep fighting when you have a piece of wood crashing into your skull,” Dad replies trying to rationalize with mom.

The arguing brings Elizabeth and Katy from their rooms which makes the police questions seem like nothing. The questions and accusations are killing me and I figure I have the greatest way to stop it.

“Can I go to my room please, I feel like I’m gonna fall down,” I tell everyone grabbing a chair for ‘balance’.

Mom is the first one to jump at the chance to help, putting my arm over her shoulders and down the hall into my room. She helps me out of my coat and takes my boots off before laying me down on my bed. I lie there in pain as mom leaves the room while I start to go over the list in my head.

Derek drove the car, probably his car and had the others put me in the trunk to move me but why?