Fated Hearts (Echoes of Darkness Prequel)

6

Ava

A garbled sound leaves from deep within my chest as I try to open my eyes. Try being the operative word there; my eyelids feel so damn heavy the millimeters I do gain feel like a Herculean effort. When I finally manage to open them, bright light burns through my retinas, and I have to blink for what seems like an eternity before my vision adjusts to the space I’m in. I am lying on a hospital bed with tubes and wires coming out of seemingly every limb. Why am I in the hospital again? The last thing I remember is the concert and then…then…Jude pulling me into the back room of the band’s bus and the cocaine.

Mierda…the cocaine.

My heart quickens dangerously at the memories assaulting my brain, but somehow, it feels different. Stronger. It has a more constant, steady rhythm. That isn’t the only oddity, however. Because as the sound of the blood rushing in my ears dims, the beeping of machines scrapes against my eardrums alongside heavy steps and roaring conversations that seem to be happening all at once around me. I can even hear the traffic from outside, the blaring of honks, and angry drivers shouting at each other. Is that…someone changing the radio station in their car?

What the fuck?

Not only that, but the strong, bitter smell of antiseptic mixed with the artificial fragrance of harsh cleaning products burns my nostrils and the back of my throat but does nothing to distract from the pungent stench of bodily fluids and ammonia. Then the smell of fresh and already decaying flowers hits me like a ton of bricks, and bile surges into my throat at the confusing odors mingling all at once.

The distinct slapping sound of shoes making contact with the floor reaches my ears long before a nurse walks into the room, shock passing over her features. Her strong perfume gives me a headache, even though she’s nowhere near my bed. God, did she have to bathe in it? She hurries to the side of my bed and uses a remote to lift the upper half of my body into an upright position.

Her eyebrows pull together in concern. “You shouldn’t be awake so soon; you barely just got out of surgery. Can you take a deep breath in and then out for me?”

I do as she says, and the moment I start exhaling, she expertly pulls the breathing tube out of my throat. Which, surprisingly, I didn’t even notice beyond the absolute chaos assaulting my ears and nose.

“Oh my God! You’re awake already.” Chloe’s panicked voice pulls my attention toward her as she enters the room and ambles to the side of my bed. “The doctor said it would probably take up to twenty-four hours.”

“Hey,” I manage to whisper in a hoarse, deep voice.

“Do you want water?” the petite nurse asks. Her hair is cut in a razor-sharp bob, and she is wearing thick-framed glasses. She reminds me of that designer lady from The Incredibles .

I nod, so she takes a glass already filled with water from the tray next to the bed and places the straw right at my lips. I take a few sips, the cold liquid like a balm to my abused throat. “Thank you.”

“I’ll notify the doctor you’re awake,” she says and scurries out of the room.

Chloe squeezes my hand gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Surprisingly well. I feel different somehow…What happened, Chlo?”

She grimaces and wrinkles her nose. “How much do you remember?”

“The last thing I remember was being with Jude on the bus and then snorting some cocaine and then nothing…” I mumble weakly.

She shakes her head, eyes brimming with tears. “Fuck, Ava. You scared me to death.” Taking a deep breath in, she continues, “Jude came from the back of the bus in a panic and told us you collapsed. We called an ambulance, and if Knox didn’t know how to do CPR, you would be dead right now. You were brought into the hospital, and the doctor said you would be dead in a few hours…that there was nothing they could do.”

She shudders with a haunted look in her eyes. A tear crests over her eyelid and falls, running down her cheek. “Then the doctor came and told us they received a call. They had found a donor, a perfect match…Ava, you got your heart transplant. You have a new heart.” As if she can’t contain her emotions, she throws her arms around my neck. I tear up, and I’m not completely sure if it’s the new heart or just her newly overpowering peach smell invading my senses.

But the scent of her perfume is the last thing on my mind. I feel like I’ve been tossed overboard in treacherous waters without a life jacket, and giant tidal waves are smashing into me. For the past month and a half, I’ve only concentrated on how little time I had left, and it made everything a lot simpler if I’m honest. But now, theoretically, I have all my life in front of me and I should be happy, yet I am terrified. The endless possibilities of what the future holds make me feel like I’m in a boat adrift at sea.

The shock dissolves after a few moments, and then the dam breaks. Tears stream down my face like pouring rain while deep sobs rake my body. Chloe doesn’t pull back until I manage to calm myself.

I clear my throat and wipe at my tear-streaked face, finally able to take in my room. It resembles a fancy five-star hotel room with a hospital bed. All the machines look futuristic, and everything is brand-spanking new. The marble floor is so shiny you can see your reflection in it. “Um, Chlo, where am I? I don’t think my insurance can cover this room.”

“They transported you to a private hospital specifically for the transplant surgery. They couldn’t bring the heart to you and refused to let Doctor Anderson do the surgery. They wouldn’t even let him assist. He was beyond pissed, but your Mom signed all the consent forms, and you now have a new doctor. It was weird, but everything happened in a blur, and your heart was deteriorating by the minute. She had to act fast. Anyway…they said all costs were taken care of by an anonymous donation.”

“For real?” Was I just this lucky? “Well, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Where’s mom?”

“She went home to take a shower and change. The doctor said it would be hours until you woke up.”

“How is she?”

“Honestly…she was barely hanging by a thread. But as soon as you got rushed into surgery, she was already making plans to move you back in with her and to speak with the school again so everything could go back to normal.”

I shake my head. “Too bad that’s not what I want.”

I now know how it feels to have your days numbered. I learned the importance of living my life to the fullest, for myself, not for other people. Did I make mistakes? Sure. I spiraled out of control with the men, desperate to feel and experience as much as I could in the limited time I had left. Did I regret anything? Honestly, not really. Well, okay, maybe having sex with William the Turd. And I shouldn’t have snorted cocaine with my heart condition. But I let myself make mistakes. I let myself live. And that is what matters most.