Decisions

Disclaimer: Who can spot the most pop culture references?

*****

Chapter 1:

So here's a funny story. On March 30th, 1981, John Hinkey Jr. attempted to assassinate President Ronald Reagan, succeeding in wounding him with a bullet that ricocheted and hit him in the chest. When Ronald Reagan was being wheeled into the hospital on a gurney, he looked up at his wife Nancy and said, "Honey, I forgot to duck."

When I learned that fact, Ronald Reagan earned grudging respect from yours truly. I say grudging respect because of his stance on some political issues, like the Monster Civil Rights Act that he tried to block. Some people just couldn't be perfect, eh?

"Is he awake?"A female voice cut through the darkness, her voice adopting a scared tone.

"Just because his eyes are open doesn't mean he's actually conscious. He may be suffering some form of a minor hallucination." He explained. "He took a big shot to the head."

"I know." Came another reply. "It looked really bad when we saw it."

"How's the damage?" Someone asked, gruffly.

"Well, according to a concussion grading scale, Mr. Williams is suffering from a stage two concussion and a linear skull fracture. Although it sounds bad, it actually isn't. He's very lucky. The window took away much of the force from the..." The voice slowly began fading.

"The brick." This voice grew quiet. I knew it but I just couldn't put my finger on where it was from. It was as if the person was far away and out of my reach. I tried to strain my ear to hear, but it was still quieting.

"Correct. The brick. It still caused some brain trauma, so we gave him some..."

A closing of a door.

Deafening silence permeated by a steady beeping noise. Every few seconds... beep... beep... beep... beep.

Slowly, things began to come too. The ceiling. The room. The person. A shadow leaned over. "Chris? Chris... please wake up. I need to see you. Please... I love you." She begged. Her face was hazy, as if it were perpetually out of focus, but slowly, slowly, it came to. Details began molding onto her face. Details that I could've made out from anywhere. Long raven hair that flowed all the way down her back. The pointy chin, high cheekbones, sculpted nose, full lips... expressive crystal blue eyes filled with worry. An unattractive frown complemented by fangs. I knew this person and I knew her well. Anastasia "Stasi" Sokolov. My best friend. The love of my life. The most important person to me.

"Please..." Stasi pleaded. "Come back to me."

"Ok." I wanted to whisper, but my mouth refused to cooperate.

"You can do it..." She encouraged. "Just... open your.."

Eyes.

Light. Haze. Noise. Too much of all three at the same time is a bad thing.

I blinked.

I blinked again.

I blinked again, again, again, and again.

Stasi was gone. At least, I think she was. I couldn't tell. The haze was going away, but it was still there along with the light. I looked around with my eyes, gently coming to. My senses began coming to and I realized that what I was hearing was a steady 'beep'... 'beep'... 'beep'. I was lying on a comfortable bed with white linen sheets and fluffy pillows. I slowly rotated my head, looking around the room. Hospital... I was in a hospital. I knew that much.

I slowly swung my legs over the side... but not slow enough, apparently. I groaned in pain as my head throbbed, resisting the urge to vomit all over the floor. I probably would've actually vomited had my stomach not been empty. The pangs of hunger and the headaches were just a step below intolerable. Slowly, but surely, I came to my feet, swaying slightly from the fogginess and the motion sickness. I examined my surroundings, looking around. My bed was surrounded by chairs, blankets, pillows, and bags of fast food.

Where was I? Why was I even here? I scrunched my eyes, trying to remember. All I could remember was a near kiss, a sharp pain at back of my head, lots of screaming. Horrible, horrible screaming worthy of a slasher film.

Oh my god.

I got shot in the head by a hitman, didn't I?

I felt my head, making sure that it wasn't in bits and pieces that were somehow fused together by some magical act of medicine. Satisfied that everything was in working order and I hadn't had my noggin busted wide open by a sniper rifle, I ripped off the sensor connected to my finger and stumbled to the door, not fully cognizant what I was doing. The effort it took to navigate the maze of chairs and furniture was nearly enough to make me faint. I fumbled for the door knob, swinging the door wide open.

"Aaaarrgh!" The officer yelled in surprise, dropping the paper cup of coffee he had in his hand. Black coffee spilled all across the white tile, splattering like dark blood. The officer spun around to face me along with his partner. Everyone else in the busy hallway simply stared at me in surprise as I swayed on the spot.

"Sorry, officer." I slurred, the fact that I was even able to be awake, much less speak, surprising me. "But I think you dropped something..." I stumbled forward, my eyes rolling to the back of my head, passing out. The officer managed to catch me before I could slam my head again on the tiled floor.

When I finally came to again, I was filled in with what happened by an middle aged Indian doctor, Dr. Shukla, who was giving me check up.

"You gave us quite a scare, Mr. Williams." He said, with a twinkle in his eye. "You're lucky that you didn't fall over inside the room where nobody would've caught you."

"Sorry, sir." I replied, sitting up on the bed. My head throbbed in pain. "Where am I?"

"St. Francis Memorial. Do you know why you're here?"

"Yes.. I.." My voice trailed off. Why was I even here? I remembered the Thanksgiving Party... barely. I remembered the kiss and the feeling of pain erupting on the back of my head but everything after that was blank. "No... I don't. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for, Chris. You're here because you were attacked Thursday evening. Someone threw a brick at your house, and by some unfortunate timing, he threw the rock at a window, a window that you were behind. You took the majority of the blow, saving your friends from severe damage. However, you did get a concussion, a linear skull fracture, and numerous lacerations on the back of your head from the glass."

"Is everyone else ok?"

"You're not worried for yourself?" He asked. "Or the man who threw the brick?"

"Tis but a flesh wound." I cracked a weak smile.

Dr. Shukla chuckled. "Hamlet. It looks as if your concussion wasn't as severe as we had feared if you can vividly recall a quote from a literature play."

"Where's Stasi?" I asked, dumbly. "Is she here?"

"Stasi?" He looked puzzled.

"Tall... black hair... really pretty?" I began. Dr. Shukla still looked puzzled. "Vampire." I said, exasperated.

His eyes widened. "Oh, yes. Her. I thought her name was Anna." Oh right. Only I called her Stasi.

"She makes everyone call her that. I just call her Stasi." I explained.

"Regardless of her name, you sure are important to her. She had to be pried away from you when we brought you in!" He chuckled at my look of horror. I never wanted to put Stasi through that. "Yes, she's here along with her whole family. Your family has been told that you're awake. They'll be in here in a moment." He said, warmly. "They were in the cafeteria."

"You guys let her in even though she was a vampire?"

"Always worried about everyone other than yourself, aren't you?" My cheeks turned red, making him laugh. "No need to feel embarrassed. It's an honorable trait to have, Chris. Not a lot of people have it these days." He looked down at his clipboard, scribbling something down with his pen. "When it became known that she was riding in the ambulance with you, the ambulance was forced to re-route here, to Saint Francis. We're one of the only hospitals in the city that accept monsters."

He tore the note from the clipboard, handing it over to me.

"What's this?"

"Your note for your hockey coach. Thankfully, your concussion wasn't as severe as we initially feared. You'll be able to resume full action before your season starts. As a matter of fact, it looks like you'll be able to start by December 12th... which looks to be your birthday."

I took the paper, looking at it. The date said November 27th. I was unconscious for two days. "How did you..."

"Your girlfriend." Dr. Shukla smiled warmly. "She wasn't too happy when she checked in. She was alternating between crying in despair, pacing the hallway in anguish, or nervously chewing anything that she could get her hands on! It wasn't until we told her that you'd make a full recovery did she calm down and tell us everything that she thought was important. She must love you very much, you know."

My heart fluttered at his mentioning of Stasi's love. "Can I see her?" I asked, eagerly.

His eyes twinkled as he scanned the clipboard. "Yes, you will be able to soon. In fact, your family is probably waiting outside. I'll have to see them first." He scribbled his signature at the bottom, holding the clipboard at his side. "Rest easy, drink lots of fluids, eat plenty of good food. If you're looking to exercise and do sports, only light aerobic activity for the first few days, then running, then training drills, then full contact. But, you probably already knew that."

He tapped my leg with his pen. "You're in good hands, Chris. You'll be in and out of here in no time. I'll check back with you later tonight."

I nodded. "Thank you, Doctor Shukla."

"Please, call me Karthik." He smiled at me before heading towards the door. He opened it and stepped outside. I craned my stiff neck, hoping to get a sight of my parents, Stasi, her parents, Viktor, Elena, anybody. My efforts were futile and the door closed before I could get a good look outside. I sighed in frustration and leaned back on the pillows, staring up at the ceiling tiles. I was already feeling cramped.

It was all kind of funny in some twisted way, though. I played football and hockey for almost seven years. I have been tackled, sacked, and made hits countless amount of times. Instead of that giving me a severe concussion, I was done in by getting hit in the head by a brick.

The door opened again, making me look away from the ceiling at my parents who were rushing in.

"Oh my god!" My mom blubbered, running in and crushing me in a hug. Tears were streaming down her face. "You scared the death out of us, Christopher Robert Williams! Don't you do that ever again!"

"Mom. Ow." I groaned.

"Yes, you did, son. Never ever let someone throw a brick at the back of your head ever again." My dad chuckled, grasping onto my shoulder. Despite his joking manner, his brown eyes were clouded with worry.

My mom let go of me and sat down on the side of my bed, looking at my face. "We were so worried that you were seriously hurt." She raised a hand to my cheek, softly touching it. "When the paramedics took you away on the stretcher, it looked as if you had died."

I guiltily dropped my head. "I'm fine, mom. Honestly. It'll take a lot more than a brick to seriously hurt me." I smiled weakly.

"Don't you say that, Chris. A mother and father should never have to watch an ambulance with their child in it driving away." My mom scolded. She turned to my dad. "Isn't that right, Robert?"

"Right." My dad replied. He was looking outside the window through the drawn curtains. I hadn't been able to tell that they were closed because the lights were on in my room. I wished I could've turned them off. The bright illumination were giving me a migraine.

"Are you alright though, Chris? Honestly?" My mom asked, giving my body a onceover to make sure she wasn't missing any wounds that the trained eyes of St. Francis Medical Team had missed.

"I'm fine, mom." I repeated, warmly. "My head just hurts a little." My stomach growled. "And I'm a bit hungry." I added, making my mom's worried face melt into a soft smile.

"We'll get that second part fixed for you in a minute. When we heard that you were conscious, Yulia drove home to go make your favorite corned venison sandwiches and bring them back. By some stroke of luck, we were able to smuggle it past the security."

"Smuggling past security?" I asked, confused. "At a hospital?"

My mom looked at me blankly before recognition dawned on her face. "Oh! You don't know. Honey, the attack was on the local news. The city media has been camped outside of the hospital for the past two days. The two police officers are outside to make sure no one unauthorized comes in. You're the poster boy for monster rights around here." She gushed. "I'm so proud of you."

"Yes, you are, son." My dad added, still outside through the curtains. "We had to enter the hospital through the back to avoid getting harassed. We'll also have to repair the window... first the garage, now the window."

"I'm sorry, dad." I mumbled, guiltily.

"Don't apologize to him, honey. Robert! Don't you dare guilt trip him. We all know that you've been eating the attention up." My mom scolded. "You also told me you were wanting to get the glass replaced but never found the excuse."

"Guilty." My dad admitted, making the both of us laugh.

My mom patted me on the leg. "You've had Anna worried sick. She has spent more time in the hospital than out in the past two days. She only goes home to change clothes or shower. She was always either sitting there and doing homework." She gestured to one of the many chairs around my bed. The one that was closest to me. "Or sleeping out there in the waiting room. Just her luck that she was downstairs in the cafeteria when you woke up."

My heart fluttered once again. "Can I see her?" I asked, anxiously. If it had been two days that I was unconscious, I wanted to make up as much time as I possibly could with Stasi.

"Of course!" My mom said. "Do you want the entire Sokolov family to come in or do you just want it to be private with her?"

"Private, please." My mom nodded and stood up off my bed. She swooped down and gave me a kiss on the cheek, before collecting my dad and stepping outside of the room. A few words were exchanged outside, before the door opened once again, and in entered Stasi. She closed the door behind her, looking at me with an unreadable expression on her face.

She was wearing a normal outfit, for a normal day. Jeans that hugged her lower half and a cute blouse. Minimal makeup was applied to her face, but that didn't detract away from her beauty. Her raven hair was tied in a loose ponytail, flowing down her back. As a matter of fact, the only things marring her beauty was the tired look on her face, the look that she had whenever she didn't get that much sleep. Despite that, she was still pretty, gorgeous even.

"Uh... hi. I mean, sorry." I waved at her, awkwardly. "I forgot to duck."

Terrible mistake.

Her eyes narrowed, her nostrils flared, her fangs came out. "I forgot to duck? That's all you can say? I forgot to duck?!" She snarled in a heavy Russian accent that was the product of her parents raising her speaking Russian (despite being born in America). The accent was normally cute, but it wasn't so cute now. It was actually scary.

Stasi balled her fists and marched up to my bed. "You get yourself in the hospital and are unconscious for two days and all you can say to me is hi and a stupid Ronald Reagan quote?! Oh my god, if you weren't so helpless right now, I'd have punched you!" She spat.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I'd get a brick thrown at me at my own party!" I said, defensively.

"That doesn't give you the right to just say something so stupid to me, dummy!" She growled, angrily. She came up to my bed and cocked her hand back. I winced, expecting to get punched in the mouth, but she surprised me yet again.

With tears of blood leaking out of her eyes, she immediately swooped down and crushed me in a tight hug, almost as if afraid I was a mirage and I'd disappear any second. "Do you know how worried I was?" Her voice came out a sob. "Do you know, Chris? Do you know how it felt to know that the only reason you were in the hospital was because of me?!"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, wrapping my arms around her, holding her tightly to me. "You had nothing to do with this. It wasn't your fault."

"I had everything to do with this!" She cried. "I'm a monster, Chris. The only reason that the ublyudok attacked you was because of me, of us. It was all my fault! The sole reason that you're here and not at home is because of me."

I grabbed her by the arms, pushing her away from me but holding her in place so we were staring at each other. "Stasi!" I said, loudly, cutting off her spiel. "If you didn't thro-.. Zip it! Don't say anything! My turn to talk!" She promptly snapped her mouth shut. "Like I said, you had nothing to do with this. It was all that guy's fault. He threw the brick, not you."

"But I did have something to do with it." She said, weakly.

"No, you didn't." I reassured her. "You had absolutely nothing to do with this. It was all that scumbag's fault."

Silence overcame us, before Stasi wiped away her tears of blood from her cheeks. "So, you don't blame me for anything?" She asked, meekly.

I gaped at her. "Why would I?"

She shrugged, suddenly looking ashamed. "I thought that maybe you'd have seen the dangers of... you know, being together and that you'd have second thoughts about the relationship."

"Stasi, I love you with all my heart. I'd never break up with you for anything." I reassured. "I'd take a million bricks to the head before I'd ever even think, let alone contemplate, breaking up with you."

She smiled softly, before leaning forward and giving me a kiss. And another. And another. The taste of strawberries were exploding into my mouth every time. "Thanks, lyubov." She mumbled in between kisses. The use of my pet name wasn't lost on me. "I love you with all my heart, as well. I love your personality, your handsomeness, and especially your lexicon. Not many seniors use contemplate in their daily word usage."

"You've been paying attention when we studied for the SAT." I noted, laughing, the tension in the room all but disappearing. Stasi smiled, before wiping away the last of the blood tears with tissues that were on the night stand.

"I have. Probably why I got a better score than you."

"You only got 30 points higher." I observed.

"That's still higher than your score." She bunched up the tissue paper and threw it towards the trash can. The reddened ball sailed through the air before bouncing off of the rim of the trash can and falling on the floor. "Blyat." She swore. I laughed and Stasi glared at me over her shoulder as walked over to it, picked it up, and dropped it in the trash can.

"That's not funny." She huffed as she came back. "That's really not funny."

"Yes, it is. You're so cute." I giggled. I winced as I felt another headache coming on. "Ow.."

Stasi looked down at me on my bed with worry and concern etched on her face. "Is there anything I can do for you, zaichik?" She asked, anxiously. Her hand trailed onto my shoulder, gently massaging the taut skin. "More pillows or anything?"

"I'm fine." I replied. I quickly changed my mind after. "On second thought, do you think you dim the lights a bit?"

Stasi nodded. "Sure, zaichik." She bounded off of my bed and walking to the light switch, sashaying her hips as she walked. I was enraptured with her svelte body, especially her shapely rear end. I could never get enough of her. I was utterly mesmerized, until I saw Stasi looking back at me with a mischievous glint on her face. Busted. She reached the light switch, dimming the lights and making my headache just that little bit better.

She glided back to me. "Anything else, lyubov?" She asked, teasingly. "Maybe I could do a job for you?"