I started sobbing. Mom and Dad looked up from their own huddle of despair and sucked me into a deep, sobbing, sad hug. "C-Chris....." a shuddered. "I know," Mom said.
A nurse came in, holding a clipboard. She had an awful, grim look on her face. We all looked at her expectantly. "Follow me." She said. We did as we were told. She lead us down a hall of too-bright lights, the horrible chemical smell, open doors to rooms with visitors, wires, IV lines galore, crying families, empty beds. She opened a door to one room. I stared, horrified, at Chris. He looked pretty bad, he had a bandage on his head that would have been soaked in blood if the Nurse hadn't just changed it. He had stitches in his head and his left arm was in a sling. The doctor said that Chris had dislocated his left shoulder, had a concussion, broke two ribs, and had an open wound on the side of his head, so he had to have stitches, but, he was alive, and that was what mattered. I sat down in the chair next to his bed. I bit my lip, my eyes filling with tears. I put my hand in his and cried. I felt a hand on mine that was holding Chris's. I looked up, Chris! He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at me. He smiled weakly. "Chris....." my voice cracked. Then, I remembered. Word spew time kids! "Oh god Chris! I am so sorry! Oh god! If I hadn't been daydreaming, if I hadn't walked right into the street! Oh god, Chris it's all my fault!" He put a hand up to stop me. Suddenly, I remembered what he said in the ambulance; "No Ange, it's not your fault, never think that.... " I got all choked up again. "It's not your fault, Ange." He said, smiling again. "Oh Chris!" I wailed. "I'm so sor-" I stopped myself and bit my lip again. I nodded that I understood.
Chris got out of the hospital a week and a half later. He started going to school after about a month after he got out of the hospital. Yep. Concussions can do that to you.