Stronger

Stronger

Tori

Chapter 1 - Zac

Sudden bright lights blinded me, causing me to close my eyes.

I heard the crushing of metal on metal, a scream filling up the entire truck.

Glass shattered everywhere, raining down on our bodies, cutting into my skin.

The car rolled. I don't know how many times, I just know it was a lot.

The seat belt tightened around my chest.

I heard the airbags go off, feeling mine just a second later with a strong force I didn't expect, but I didn't pass out.

We rolled to a stop and I righted my body, dazed.

I could barely see out of my eyes, my head pounded & I was so dizzy.

I knew trucks and cars and I instantly worried about what could be wrong with it, knew if it was really bad there was a possibility of explosions. I knew it wasn't likely but I had to get out of there. I had to get her out of there.

We had landed right-side up and I shoved my bent door open. I had an awful pain in my right ankle, so bad I crumpled to the ground the second I tried walking on it.

I crawled on my hands and knees to the other side of the truck, calling out her name.

I reached the other side and tried standing up. It was hard but I had to get her out. I had to. She had to be okay.

I tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge.

I blinked once, twice, trying to clear my eyes up so I could see inside the window.

She wasn't awake. She wasn't awake. She must be hurt.

I yanked on the door handle over and over again.

I stepped back on my right leg, forgetting about my ankle and crumpled to the ground.

A scream emitted from my throat, at least, I think it came from me.

My eyesight grew worse and I looked up at the door from the ground.

I had to get her out. I had to get her out.

I heard someone's voice telling me not to move.

I heard my own voice saying "I have to get her out. Get her out of there." over and over again.

I heard some mumbling, some shouting, sirens blaring.

Then silence.

Chapter 2 - Zac

I woke up in a bright white room. The lights hurt my eyes and I felt nauseous as I tried to look around at my surroundings. There were flowers on the bed table beside me and a tv on the wall in front of me. I looked down at my body and saw my left foot elevated by a pulley but that was the worst of my injuries. I looked around the room and saw my phone on the bedside table. I reached over to grabbed it, wincing from the pain that shot through my body and turned it on. I had over a hundred texts. I glanced through all of them, ignoring the ones I didn't really want to respond to. I saw one that read "Zac I am so sorry to hear about your accident! I'm glad to hear that you only have a broken foot but I'm devastated to hear about Ambree. I hope she wakes up and recovers fast."

I freaked.

I started to pull at the IV wires in my arms and tried to get out of bed. Machines began beeping like crazy and pretty soon there were about half a dozen nurses rushing around me trying to get me to lay back down in bed. I fought back until I heard one say "We'll go get a sedative if you keep this up," and immediately stopped. I let them put all the IVs back in and connect all the wires back up.

Then I asked, "where is she? Please tell me where she is. I have to see her."

"Who is he talking about?" A blonde nurse whispered to a brunette next to her.

"Ambree. Where is she? I know she was with me when I got in that accident. Where is she? Take me to her," I begged them.

They all looked up at one nurse, whom I assumed to be the head nurse, who answered me saying, "we need to have you looked at by the doctor before we take you anywhere but once he checks you out we'll take you to Ambree."

I nodded my head and settled back into the pillows not quite satisfied but knowing if I fought back they wouldn't let me go. The nurses left and a few minutes later in walked a middle-aged doctor. He did a quick checkup explaining the injuries he was checking up on, the small cuts and oversized bruises that covered most of the left side of my body and my broken foot. I was grateful for the fact I wasn't that injured more than I was but I was more worried about Ambree. She had to be okay. The doctor said I was all good and could be released the next day as long as my vitals stayed constant. I nodded my head and asked if he could please just let me go see Ambree. He smiled, but I could tell it was fake. It must be really bad. I wanted to see her.

He walked out the door and I waited for the nurses to come back in. It seemed like ages before they walked through the door with a wheelchair. Once I was loaded in and we began to walk down the hallway, I begged them to walk faster. They didn't. We got into the elevator and I noticed they pushed the number three. That was the ICU according to the plaque on the wall that listed what was on all the levels. I tensed up. It was worse than I thought. We reached level three and I began to freak even more than I already was. They rolled me halfway down the hallway before stopping in front of a door. Room 312. I looked up at my nurses to see why we weren't going in.

"What's wrong? Why aren't we going in? I have to see her. Please," I said confused and increasingly getting more worried.

"Darling, your girlfriend was injured very very badly. She has many broken bones and very deep cuts that required a ton of stitches and staples. She looks really really bad Zac, and quite honestly it is as bad as she looks. You just need to be prepared okay?" The older nurse said.

I felt the blood drain from my face. I looked up at them and just nodded my head not trusting myself to speak. The older nurse nodded at me and then to the younger nurse who opened the door so I could be pushed inside. I want to close my eyes but I know I have to see her. I would be upset by what I saw. I know that, but I just have to see her. See what I did to her. The nurse pushed me in and I saw Ambree on the bed. I gasped.

She was pale, too pale. She looked so small, covered in so many blankets and more wires than I'd ever seen on anyone. She had a respirator and that scared me to death. She had a giant bandage wrapped around her head and a bandage on the right side of her face. Her arms were covered in bandages. She was so fragile. My eyes stung as I felt the tears roll down my face. I motioned with my hand that I wanted to get closer. The nurse hesitated but pushed me close enough I could grab Ambree's left hand. It was so small. She felt and looked so so small. I understood now why the nurses didn't want to bring me in here. It was so hard for me to look at her. I mean she was still incredibly beautiful, she'd always be beautiful to me, but just looking at her, all cut up and bruised and broken, it was so hard.

"She hasn't woken up since they brought her in with you a week ago. We think that her body has reacted to her injuries and has put her into a comatose state to try and protect her," the older nurse told me sadly.

"She will wake up though right? She has to wake up," I said more to myself than to her.

"We're hoping she will," the nurse answered. "It's time to go back to your room."

I nodded my head, still trying to figure out a way to be able to stay here and not have to go back home. That only happened once. The next night, and the next and the next I refused to leave.

Each time they just looked at each other and the younger nurse would shrug her shoulders, the older nurse would hesitate, for what I guessed was the hundredth time that day and then backed away from my wheelchair.

"We'll come get you in an hour or so alright? But then we have to come and take you back to your room so you can get some rest," the older nurse said. I would nod my head and they would both back out of the room.

It was day three now. I nodded my thanks again and the two nurses left the room, leaving me with my broken Ambree. I can't believe this was happening. We had just been coming back from one of the most fun vacations I've ever been on with our friends Ty, Payton, and Jake. It was amazing. Why did it have to end this way? How could something that good end this way? She had to wake up. Tears streamed down my face, I couldn't remember when I had started crying but I was now. I was definitely crying now. I held onto her small hand and just looked at her sweet face. I had noticed the bruises and cuts when I had first entered the room but as I had gotten closer I realized just how bad it really was. There were tiny cuts, pretty good sized cuts, and I"m pretty sure that the bandage on her face covered a very very large cut. Her right eye was swollen shut and there were bruises all over her face, the right side of her face especially. From her left hand up her arm there were pretty bad bruises, and that was the side of her body that wasn't hit directly by the impact. That didn't make sense to me but I knew Ambree bruised easily.

I looked at her for the next few minutes, just staring at her poor, bruised, cut up face. I heard the door open behind me and I braced myself for either Kathy or Marissa to say it was time to leave. I wasn't ready to leave yet. A strong hand rested on my shoulder and I looked up to see who it was. A smiling middle-aged man stared down at me and my hand that held Ambree's.

"Hello Zachary. How's she doing today?" He asked me.

"I don't know. No one has told me anything. I haven't even asked for your name this last week and you've told me the same thing every day this week" I replied.

"Yes, I'm Ambree's doctor. I'm Dr. Brown. I'm hoping that Ambree wakes up soon. Her injuries are very very intensive. I would personally want to keep her in a comatose state for another week but due to the surgery we did on her brain we need her to wake up to see if there's any other damage we can fix before it gets worse or becomes permanent," He explained to me.

My heart dropped. "What are her injuries exactly?" I asked.

He hesitated, most likely trying to decide if my frame of mind was good enough to lay this information on me. I took my gaze off of Ambree to look up at him, silently begging with my eyes for him to just tell me. He looked down and I could see his resolve crumble.

"This isn't going to be easy to hear Zachary," He said, not looking me in the eye.

"Please. Just tell me," I begged.

"The truck hit your truck on the right side of it, the passenger side, which was where Ambree was sitting. The right side of her body is the side that was impacted the most. Her right arm and right leg suffered the most damage, besides her head and stomach injury which I will discuss later. Her right arm is broken in multiple places but some good news is her shoulder, collarbone, and rotator cuff were not injured. Her right leg was severely injured. Her kneecap is fractured, her ankle shattered, her femur is broken, and her tibia is broken. Her left leg has also suffered a tibia fracture but no other bones in that leg were broken," he explained, "she has a bad head injury that resulted in surgery. She also had a severe injury to her stomach. A very large shard of metal was stuck in her stomach from when the truck hit her side and crushed the metal."

I couldn't breathe. I was pretty sure that I wasn't breathing. I could not believe this was happening to her. My eyes stung and I couldn't see out of them because of all the tears. This was my fault. So much she didn't know, so much that I've already done to hurt her and now here she is, literally broken.

"This isn't your fault," a voice from behind me said.

I turned my wheelchair around so I could see who it was. It was Jason Davis. Ambree's dad. I turned back around. How could I look at his face when it was all my fault that his daughter was here in the hospital, with all of her extensive injuries? How could I look at him when I hurt his only daughter, his only child? If he knew everything I had done to her even before this accident he would never let me go near her again. But with the accident on top of it all? He trusted me with her and I hurt her. I heard him pull a chair up by my wheelchair and felt his hand on my shoulder. I grabbed Ambree's hand again and tried to pull myself together.

"Zac, it's okay to cry. This is an awful and terrifying experience and I'm sure you have many emotions. It's okay to let them out," Jason said.

"I did this to her. How can you even look at me?" I said, not recognizing my own voice.

"No. No way you're blaming this on yourself. It was the drunk driver going 90 miles an hour on a back road that ran a red light. That's whose fault it was. So get that awful idea out of your damn head right now," he said angrily.

I stayed silent, letting the tears roll down my face freely. No matter what he said to me I would always blame myself. I should've payed better attention. How could I not see a car going that fast? Why did I not check both ways?

"Zac, what do you remember? About that night? About the crash?"

"Not much, should I know a lot?"

"Not necessarily. But the police want you to try. They're outside the door but I asked them not to come in. If you could just tell me, I'll record it on my cell phone then give that to them, just so it makes it easier for you."

"I can try," I said taking a deep breath. I thought hard back to that night. "We were driving through Brigham City, it had been a long drive and we were tired and couldn't wait to be home. Ambree had been laying her head on a sweatshirt against the window singing along to Taylor Swift's new album. I kept looking over at her. She looked so pretty even after driving in a car for four and a half hours. I remember getting to the last light before we'd begin the climb to get into the canyon. The light was red and we were the only car there. I couldn't see any headlights behind me or in front of me. I didn't check to see if there were any cars coming from the sides. God I didn't check." I cried harder putting my head in my hands.

"Take a deep breath. Just a little bit more. What do you remember after that?"

"The light turned green and I started moving forward. But I still didn't look to the sides of me. I remember being blinded by a bright light when I heard Ambree's voice. I don't remember what she said but I could tell she was nervous by the tone of her voice. I looked over quickly then everything kind of just goes blurry. I remember the pain in my ankle and head. I remember calling out Ambree's name but getting no response. I heard sirens and people yelling and then nothing. Nothing. I couldn't even help her."

"Zachary stop right there. There was nothing you could do. She wasn't the only one affected in the accident. You have a concussion and a broken ankle. There's no way you could've walked to the other car door and then lift Ambree out of the car. There's no way. You need to understand that."

I stayed silent, not trusting myself to speak, not really wanting to speak, looking down at my hand that held Ambree's small hand. The tears were streaming down my face but I didn't care. This was my fault. I did this to her. My best friend.

Nurses and doctors came in and out to check on her. Her dad came in a couple of times as well, bringing food and Dr. Pepper. Time passed and I sat there in my wheelchair, holding Ambree's small hand, whispering small prayers up to heaven hoping to see her bright blue eyes open soon

Chapter 3 - Ambree

My whole body hurts.

Like I hurt so bad. I can't believe how bad I hurt. My head hurts, my legs hurt, my arms hurt and good heck my stomach is on fire. I don't know why I hurt so bad but good Lord could it stop? Opening my eyes even hurt but I did it anyways. I blinked, blinded by the bright lights. Once everything cleared up I knew instantly where I was: the hospital. I hated hospitals. I looked around and saw heaps of flowers, cards and my favorite candies piled up on the tables around me. There was something in my nose that was bothering me and I tried to reach my hand up to feel what it was but something stopped me.

"Oh my God. Ambree you're awake. Don't touch that, you need that right now. You have no idea how happy I am that you're awake right now," a strikingly familiar voice said to me.

I looked over to where the voice was coming from. A handsome, tan brown-eyed guy sat looking at me. I smiled.

"Zac," I said.

Tears formed in his eyes and almost instantly started running down his cheeks. He never cried. During the eight years we had known each other I think I had seen him cry maybe three times; once when his dog died, another when they lost the state championship sophomore year, and the last when I told him my deepest secret.

"Zac, what's wrong? I'm okay. I don't know what happened or why I'm here but Zachary I'm awake. I'm right here," I said squeezing his hand as hard as I could, realizing it wasn't that hard. What had happened to me?

"Ambree, sweetheart this is my fault. You're here because of me. I am so so sorry," He said grabbing my hand but putting his head down so I couldn't see his face.

"Zac what are you talking about?"

"Do you remember what happened Ambree?"

"Not really. I remember we were driving home from St. George but I don't remember getting in an accident or anything. What happened Zac?"

He retold the story I knew he had probably told a few times already today. I squeezed his hand whenever he got emotional. He finished the story and when he finally got the courage to look up, I knew he saw the tears in my eyes and the ones rolling down my cheeks. He stood up from his wheelchair, wincing from the pain the movement caused, he leaned over me and wiped the tears off my cheeks.

"Ambree why are you crying? Don't cry. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'll go and leave you alone. I'm so sorry," he said, new tears growing in his eyes as he turned to walk away.

I grabbed onto his shirt, holding as tight as I could, until he turned around. He wouldn't look me in the eyes

"Zac don't go. It wasn't your fault. I know you did nothing wrong. Even without hearing you tell me I know you would never ever do something like that to me. Zac, I love you and you aren't going anywhere. Please stay with me," I begged.

He still couldn't look me in the eyes. He just nodded his head and sat back down on the chair. He held my hand like it was a lifeline. At least that's what it seemed like to me, he was squeezing my hand so hard.

The doctor came in to check up on me, going through all my injuries, causing Zachary to let go of my hand. I half listened to the doctor as he explained how long I was out, how long I was going to be in the hospital, and all the other information I apparently needed to know, but all I could pay attention to was Zach.

He had let go of my hand and sat back in his chair, leaning his head back against the head rest with his eyes closed, tears rolling down his cheeks. It broke my heart to see him so torn up about all of this. The doctor finished up what he was saying and I gave a classic answer, hoping it was the right answer, and he turned his head to look at Zach.

"You know I'm supposed to kick you out now right?" Dr. Brown asked him.

Zachary nodded his head, not opening his eyes. Dr. Brown smirked and left the room.

"What was that about?" I asked Zachary.

He finally opened his eyes, finally looked at me saying, "He's come in here everyday around the same time for the past week to check up on you and he always says that same thing. He knows there's no way I'm leaving."

He is amazing. He had been here for a week by my side. Tears filled my eyes but I pushed them back down as I tried to stay strong for him and for me. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it the best I could. He looked at me, tears in his eyes, and I smiled at him. It hurt to smile but I wanted him to know that I really did love and appreciate him and everything he did for me.

"You've been here for a week? You haven't gone home or anything?" I asked him.

He shook his head.

"Zac you need to go home. You need to eat some good food and take a shower.." I started saying before I was cut off.

"Are you saying I smell bad?" Zac said defensively.

"Uh, no not at all. I'm just saying you probably want to since you haven't in a while." I said trying to make good on offending him.

But then he smiled.

"I was teasing you babe," he said still smirking.

"You're so mean. I feel so bad and then you go and do something like that. You're such a brat." I said laughing.

He laughed and I felt like we were finally getting somewhere. I proceeded to ask him about what had happened while I had been asleep and he could give me nothing. Just things like "oh this couple broke up" or "this baseball team lost their first game" and all the stuff you could find on your phone with one click.

I listened while he talked and looked around the room at all of the flowers and gifts that people had apparently left while I was asleep. I looked back at him a little curious about the gifts and who they were from and he stopped his baseball rant to tell me about them.

"Well the biggest basket over there are from Payton of course. She would probably still be here but she had a family reunion in California. She has texted me nonstop since she left though. Literally every five minutes I get a text asking how you are," he explained rolling his eyes.

I laughed knowingly, that totally sounded like Payton. I remembered her telling us about the family reunion she had to go to but couldn't believe it was already that time of the summer.

"The smaller hospital gift baskets, aka the crappy ones, are from Ty and Jake. They didn't go to the extent of creating a gift basket that suits you and your personality. They would be here too but they're playing baseball," he continued.

"Wait, shouldn't you be playing too then?" I asked. Ty, Jake and Zac all played on the same high school team and the same summer ball team. He looked down at his lap again and I knew what he had done.

"Zachary. Why are you here when your team is somewhere playing? They need you. We both know you're the best pitcher on the team. There was a huge tournament this summer that you were going to that was super important for your team. Is this that tournament?" I asked my voice loud.

He looked up at me and said, "no, that tournament is in two weeks."

"Oh good I was gonna kick your stupid butt. But still might because why are you here?" I asked settling back into the pillows wincing a little at the pain that shot through my stomach.

"Ambree there's no way I'm leaving you when you're like this. When you're stuck in the hospital and you're broken and hurting. There's no way."

My heart burst open. This boy right here was just too amazing. I knew how important baseball was to him. He had a huge scholarship to Vanderbilt and had to play really well this summer before leaving to go there to play.

"Zachary you need to go home and shower. Sleep in your bed for a night or two. Eat some of your mom's amazing food. You look exhausted. I'm awake and I am feeling good. Please go home. Contact your coach, your teammates, tell them you can come play today, or tomorrow if there's no more games today. Please Zac," I pleaded with him, looking him in his chocolate brown eyes.

"Ambree I don't want to leave you. It's my fault you're here and I feel awful. I've ruined your future," he said pulling his hand away and putting his head in his hands.

I didn't say anything for a second, letting his words settle into my head.

"Wait, ruin my future? How did you do that?" I asked confused.

He looked up, eyes wide, filling with tears again. "Ambree, you can never play soccer again. Your leg is too damaged. They're worried you're never going to walk again."

My mind went blank. I went back to what the doctor said when he first came in.

"right leg severely injured,"

"kneecap fractured,"

"ankle shattered,"

"femur broken,"

"tibia broken."

Then the worst, "Ambree we're worried you're never going to walk again. The damage to your leg is too much."

I felt myself pulling away. Soccer was all that I had. Besides Zachary and my dad. Soccer was my ticket to a better life. My ticket away from everything. Soccer had been my life for years. I had started playing when I was three. Played on all-girls teams, all-boys teams, and coed teams growing up. I started as freshman at the number one ranked high school in the country and was the newcomer of the year that year. We took state and I led the team in goals and assists. Sophomore year and junior year were about the same. We took state again and I continued extending my numbers of assists and goals. This last year, my senior year, I set state and national records for numbers of goals scored and assists. I had a full-ride scholarship to the number one women's soccer college in America, Penn State.

It was all over.

I could never play again.

I felt Zachary's hand grab mine and could hear his voice in the distance but I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I knew I shouldn't push him away right now, that it would only make him feel even worse about the accident but this was my life. He'd understand. I know he would. If it was him not being able to play baseball again and he shut down I know I wouldn't blame him and I'd just help him through it. That's how we've always been. We help each other through everything.

I tasted something salty, I knew I was crying I just didn't know when I had started crying. This was my dream. My dream and it was gone. It was his fault. I shouldn't blame him, I knew that, my heart knew that, but my mind was telling me that it was. I pulled my hand away from his and turned my head away so I couldn't look at him. I heard him say my name, heard the sadness, pain and guilt in his voice but I couldn't look at him. Not right now.

I heard him say something, not quite comprehending what he said exactly, but when I heard the chair move back away from my bed I knew exactly what he was doing. He was leaving. He was leaving me