AMELIA.
The hospital room was quiet–too quiet.
The kind of silence that wrapped around your chest and make it hard to breathe. The air was cold and sterile, but I barely noticed. I lay still in the white bed, the soft hum of the IV drip the only sound in the room. My fingers trembled slightly as they curled around the edge of the blanket, my knuckles pale from the pressure. My heart thudded in my chest, not fast, not slow, but heavy, like it was dragging me down with every beat.
Dylan had gone home. My mum had insisted. Something about needing to change clothes and get some rest, even though I knew that wasn't the real reason. My mother was trying to give me space–space that I hadn't asked for. Space I wasn't sure I wanted. I needed people around me, but no one could possibly unders
