Back to the Drawing Board
Back to the Drawing Board
Copyright © LL Collins 2015
All Rights Reserved
ISBN13: 978–1515228363
Cover Design by:
Marisa Shor at Cover Me, Darling
Interior Design and formatting by:
Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
To those of you whose lives haven't gone as planned. Remember your plans haven't been etched in stone or drawn in permanent ink, but sketched in pencil. Erase them, draw over them and find who you are. You're the architect of your own life. The revisions you make may be the design you've always wanted.
Five years ago
“HI, CARTER. CAN YOU TALK?
Because there are some things I need to talk to you about.” My mom’s voice sounded strained and upset. That wasn’t like her, so I was immediately on edge. I knew she was missing me and we hadn’t gotten to talk in the few weeks I’d been away at college. I felt bad about that, but we’d been playing phone tag.
“Of course, Mom. I’m driving home from the grocery store. Hayden and I decided we could no longer live on Ramen noodles and Doritos.” As much fun as I was having in college, hearing her voice made me homesick.
My mom laughed, so I figured whatever it was couldn’t be that bad and my unease lifted. “Yeah, that gets old after a while. You doing okay on money?”
I rolled my eyes, looking both ways as the light turned green. “Yes, I’m fine. You and Dad gave me plenty. Now what’s up? You said you needed to talk to me? Is everything okay?”
Just then, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and turned my head slightly as I put my foot on the brake. I opened my mouth to cry out as I saw the car careening towards me, but nothing came out. There was nowhere to go and nothing I could do to get out of the way. The last thing I remembered was the phone flying from my hand and the sound of smashing glass and screeching metal. Then everything went black.
I blinked my eyes open, pain shooting through my body. I attempted to breathe out to relieve it, but that didn’t work. There was so much light. I tried to swallow but it felt like I was suffocating. Where was I? What was happening? I had no idea what hurt, but it sure as hell felt like it was everything.
Just as the pain was subsiding and I felt myself getting sucked back into wherever I’d come from, a heard a voice I didn’t recognize. Then someone was touching me softly, putting their warm hand on my cold one. I shivered, then moaned as pain radiated through my head.
“Carter? Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can.” I had no idea who the soft voice belonged to, but I squeezed her hand anyway. The pain was bad, so bad. “That’s great, honey. Stay with us. Don’t try to talk or swallow yet, okay? I’ll be right back I’m going to get the doctor.”
Doctor? Why did I need a doctor? Why couldn’t I talk or swallow? I lifted my hands, but that wasn’t a good idea because the shot of pain that ran through my body made me whimper. I concentrated on breathing in and out through my nose, feeling the trickles of tears coming out of my eyes.
In what seemed like seconds but could’ve been days or weeks as far as I could keep track of, a man that must be the doctor was peering over me. He alternated between looking into my eyes and at a monitor above me.
“Welcome back, Carter,” he said. “You sure gave us quite a scare. Relax. I’m going to take the breathing tube out. Don’t attempt to talk yet after I remove it, okay?” I nodded, my head still swimming with what I was doing here and what had happened. That small movement made the room spin, and I closed my eyes against the sensation to pass out.
I gagged as he took out the tube and then he asked me to breathe normally while he checked my vitals. I attempted to swallow, my throat so dry it felt like nails were scraping down my esophagus.
“Sounds good. You can have a few sips of water, but don’t go crazy. Your throat will be sore for a little while.”
The nurse appeared on my other side and held out a cup. I took the small amount greedily, feeling relief as it slid down my throat. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice sounding like I smoked a pack or two.
“Are you in pain?”
I nodded. “What happened?” I winced again as pain shot in streaks down my body.
“I’ll get you some more pain medicine in your IV,” she answered, ignoring my question. I looked at the doctor, who was writing something in a chart.
“What happened?” I repeated, hating the sound of my own voice.
“You don’t remember anything?” the doctor clicked his pen off and tucked it in his pocket. I closed my eyes, trying to figure out the last thing I remembered. Why wouldn’t they tell me? I opened my eyes and watched as she emptied a vial into my IV and hoped for instant relief.
My eyes widened as the sound of bending metal and broken glass resounded through my head. “I . . . remember the sound.”
The doctor lifted the bandage on my head. “The sound of what?”
I knew he was testing me for an indication of how well my brain was holding up. “Crunching metal and broken glass. I was in an accident, right?” God, my throat was killing me and my head was pounding.
The doctor nodded. “Yes.”
“Where’s . . . my mom?” I knew she had to be here somewhere. There was no way they hadn’t found her.
“I had the nurse call her,” he explained. “She’s been here every second and had just stepped out. I’m sure she’ll be here very soon. Get some rest and I’ll be back later to check on you.”
He turned to walk away, and a vision appeared in my head of a man standing next to my bed with my mom, but it wasn’t my dad. I narrowed my eyes, willing my brain to focus. Had that been a dream or real? And who the heck had that guy been? He’d talked to me, but I didn’t know what he’d said.
My eyes closed, feeling like weights were on my eyelids. The pain subsided and I began floating into sleep. Just before I lost consciousness, I remembered the man being here by himself, and the one word I could see over and over on his lips was, ‘Dad.’ Confused, I lost the fight to think anymore.
