Mira Pov
"Oh my darling," My mom said as she rushed to my side, you could see the tears brimming in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around me gently, trying to be mindful of my injuries, but still holding me like she never wanted to let go. Her embrace was warm and shaky, filled with fear, relief, and something else, something deeper I couldn't quite place. I could feel her heartbeat racing, as if just holding me would somehow reassure her that I was still here, still alive. Safe and healthy.
I had woken up less than an hour ago, still feeling groggy from the medication and the trauma of what had just happened. Everything felt surreal, almost like a half-remembered dream. The lights above the bed felt too bright, blinding my eyes. My environment felt too sterile, and the faint beeping of the machines beside me only made the setting feel more detached from the reality I was familiar with. I slowly raised my hand to touch the bandage wrapped around my head. My fingers trembled as they brushed the rough texture. I could feel a dull ache beneath it, reminding me that this was real. It actually happened.
I had been in an accident, or someone saved me from one, the details were still foggy. I found it hard to focus, to put the fragments of my memories together in a logical order. My arm was dislocated. I could remember the pain that had surged through me before the darkness took over. The chaos, but everything felt like an overwhelming wave crashing against me, while I barely managed to stay afloat.
My mother still held me, brushing through my hair over and over again to calm her nerves. Her fingers trembled slightly, I could sense that she was scared. "You're okay now," she whispered, almost as if trying to convince herself more than me.
"I'm sorry, Mom," I murmured groggily. My voice was hoarse from both the accident and the emotions swirling inside me. My throat felt tight as I tried to force the words out. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just... I didn't know what else to do."
Her arms tightened around me, as if to hold me closer and tighter. She pulled back just enough to cup my face in her hands. Her fingers were warm against my skin, but I didn't let that bother me. Her eyes searched mine, trying to see if I was truly here, if I was alright, or if something in me was different.
"You should have said something," she said, her voice cracking with emotion. "I'm always here for you, Mirabel. Always. Don't you ever go running into dangerous places again. You're all I have now."
Her words struck me like a physical blow. A part of me knew she was right. I had acted recklessly, driven by emotions I didn't know how to manage. At that moment, I just wanted to be alone and express my feelings, but looking back now, I realized how foolish that was. I had been careless. If something had happened to me… I couldn't bear the thought of my mother losing her only child. I knew it would destroy her.
"I promise," I whispered, swallowing back the lump in my throat. "I won't do it again."
She sighed a breath of relief. I had just put her mind to rest and she looked like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. For a moment she just stared at me, holding me in her arms. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"You better not," she said softly. I could hear the emotion in her voice. When she stood up, she announced happily before turning toward the door. "I need to see that young man that saved your life and thank him. It will only take a minute."
I didn't have time to respond before she was gone, her footsteps echoed in the hallway. The door clicked softly behind her, and for a moment, I felt tiny in the room. It was very quiet too. The white walls, the soft beeping of machines, the faint scent of antiseptic was very unfamiliar. It felt too clean, very impersonal. I didn't want to be here. Staying here did not bring back my brother.
The nurses had explained that I needed to undergo more tests, just to make sure there were no internal injuries. They spoke calmly, professionally, but I could see the concern in their eyes. It was that concern that unsettled me more than anything. It made everything feel so much more real. I scared everyone. I was even scared myself.
Closing my eyes, I let myself drift into the haze of my thoughts, trying to piece together everything that had happened. The moment before the crash—before everything went out of control. The fight with myself. The confusion. The rush of adrenaline. The stubbornness that nearly cost me my life. And then… the man. The one who saved me. I wondered how he knew. How did he find me?
If he wasn't there, maybe I wouldn't be alive. Maybe he had arrived by chance, or maybe there was something more to it. Like fate. It wasn't my time yet. Above all I was grateful that he came. I was alive because of him.
The door opened again, pulling me from my thoughts. Mom returned, her expression softer now, but it was filled with undeniable relief. She smiled, and this time, there was a flicker of something hope in her eyes, happiness even.
"I invited him over for dinner," she announced with a smile as she sat back down beside me.
I blinked in surprise. "You what?"
"He deserves a proper thank you," she replied, her voice steady. "I want to meet the person who saved my life. I need to know who he is. It's just a thank you dinner. We owe him that, don't we?"
I wasn't sure what to say to that. A part of me was embarrassed, unwilling to face the person who had seen me at my lowest, when I had been vulnerable and broken. I didn't want to think about what had happened, much less face someone who had witnessed it firsthand. But deep down, I was curious. I wanted to know. I needed to know what kind of person would risk everything for a stranger. Was he just being kind? Or was there something more? I couldn't help but wonder if there was some kind of a deeper connection between us.
"I... okay," I said, even though I still felt uneasy about the whole situation.
Mom's face softened, and she patted my hand reassuringly. "Good. I'm sure he won't mind."
Before I could respond, Elizabeth walked into the room, with a whirlwind of energy as she swept through the door carrying flowers and a box of chocolates. She dropped the gifts onto the bed with a cheerful smile.
"Mirabel! I never knew you were suicidal," she teased,
"I'm not suicidal" I said defensively but she just laugh. The playful look in her eyes softened when she saw my expression. "I'm just kidding. But you scared the crap out of me, though. And everyone. Especially your mother she was worried when she got the news. What on earth were you thinking?"
I couldn't help but laugh, even though it felt hollow. "Stop it," I said with a grin, though it was more to hide the sadness beneath. "I was just going through a rough patch. Obviously I wasn't thinking straight."
"I can tell." She set the chocolates aside and handed me a bottle of water. "Hmm, rough patch or not, you should be able to talk to me.You can tell me anything, I have your back."
"Yeah," I sighed, "I know. But I just didn't think it would help. I didn't even want to talk about it. Sometimes it's just too... much."
"Well, that's what I'm here for," she said, sitting down next to me. "Anyway, I brought you some chocolate. It helps with blood circulation," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"We can share it," I offered, though the thought of eating felt more like an afterthought.
"No, I'm fine. You need all the strength you can get," she replied firmly. "I also brought you some apples. You should eat something."
"Thanks, Elizabeth. You're way too good to me," I said, touched by her kindness. We had just reunited after years of being apart, but she was still the sweet little soul I always knew.
"Shut up, Mira. We're friends. Friends are supposed to be there for each other," she said firmly, squeezing my hand. "Just don't shut me out, okay? You should talk to me. No matter what."
I rolled my eyes and smiled faintly, feeling a warm in my chest. "Thanks, dear. You're a good friend."
We spent the next few hours chatting, catching up on everything that had been happening in school—how Alexa had been spreading rumors about me because of the incident—I actually didn't care. I couldn't bring myself to. If people wanted to gossip, let them. I was focused on healing and finding a way forward. With Elizabeth by my side, I felt a little lighter, I didn't want her to go.
As night drew closer, Elizabeth had to leave because of chool the next morning. Her departure felt like a small loss, but I understood. She had her own life to live, her own struggles. I didn't want to bore her down with mine
The next day, I was discharged from the hospital around noon. It felt strange walking out of those sterile walls. I was unsure of what hold for me outside. After stopping by my therapist's office, I finally went home. The doctors had assessed me fit to drive, and I had to because my mom was still at work. My mind was still foggy from the medication, but right now all that mattered to me was that I survived.
That night, as I sat down to dinner with Mom, she reached over and took my hand gently. I could see that she was still a little bit worried. But relieved I was fine and okay.
"I know things have been hard lately," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "But you're not alone. And there are still good people in the world. People who care. Maybe meeting one of them might help you see that."
I nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. Her words were comforting, but I wasn't sure I fully believed them. The world felt overwhelming at times, and I still wasn't sure I could trust it.
But maybe… just maybe… things were starting to change. Maybe this was the beginning of something new. Maybe the person who had saved me wasn't just a stranger, but someone who could show me that even in the darkest times, there was hope.