Chapter Three

TINA'S POV:

I slowly opened my eyes, groggily taking in the view before me. I was lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by beeping machines and sterile white walls. A sharp pain shot through my head, making me wince. What happened? I tried to remember, but my mind was foggy. I lifted my hand to my head, feeling a bandage wrapped around my forehead. How did I get here?

I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over me, forcing me back onto the pillows. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths to calm myself down. My head was pounding, and my body felt heavy and weak. I couldn't remember anything except walking Jerry home from school... and then... nothing.

Panic set in as I realized I had no idea how I ended up in the hospital. I frantically searched my memory for any clues, but my mind was a complete blank. I slowly opened my eyes again, hoping to find some answers. But the hospital room was quiet and still, with only the machines beeping in the silence.

My memories started to return, I sat up with a jolt. The school security guard was sitting in a chair beside me, looking concerned. "Jerry!" I exclaimed, my heart racing. "Where's my son?" The nurse rushed over, trying to calm me down. "Mrs. Tina, please lie back down. You've been through a traumatic experience." But I pushed her aside, my mind racing with fear. "Where's Jerry? Is he okay?"

I threw off the covers and tried to get out of bed, but the nurse and security guard restrained me. "Ma'am, please calm down! You need to rest!" But I was beyond reason. I ripped out the IV drip and scrambled out of bed, determined to find my son. The hospital staff tried to hold me back, but I fought them off, my heart pounding in my chest. "Jerry! Jerry, where are you?" I shouted, stumbling out of the room and into the hospital corridor.

I staggered down the hallway, ignoring the cries of the hospital staff behind me. I had to find Jerry. Struggling against the hospital staff, my body shaking with fear. They held me down, forcing me into a chair, their hands gripping me tightly. I was scared, so scared, and I just wanted to see my son, Jerry. My mind was racing with bad thoughts, terrible images flashing in my head.

"Let me go!" I shouted, my voice hoarse from screaming. "I need to see Jerry! Please, please let me see my son!"

The hospital staff tried to calm me down, speaking softly, but their words were lost on me. I was beyond reason, my heart pounding in my chest. I had to get to Jerry, had to make sure he was safe.

A doctor came in, his face kind and gentle. "Mrs. Tina, please relax," he said, his voice soothing. "You've been through a lot. We'll take care of you and your son. Just calm down, okay?"

But I knew something was wrong. I felt it in my heart, a cold dread that spread through my veins like ice. Jerry was in danger, and I had to get to him. I knew it, knew it with every fiber of my being.

I looked around the room, my eyes wild and desperate. The hospital staff were watching me, their faces concerned. The doctor was trying to talk to me, but I wasn't listening. I was too busy thinking about Jerry, about how I had to get to him, no matter what.

Suddenly, I remembered the accident. The sound of screeching tires, the crunch of metal, the feeling of weightlessness as our car flew through the air. And then, nothing. Darkness. Silence. And now, this hospital room, with its bright lights and antiseptic smell. And Jerry, my sweet Jerry, where was he? Was he okay?

Just as the doctor was trying to reassure me, a nurse rushed in, her face pale and worried. "Doctor, doctor! The little boy from the accident is gasping for air! He needs attention now!" My heart skipped a beat as the doctor's expression changed from calm to urgent.

"No, no, no!" I screamed, struggling against the staff again. "Let me go! I need to be with my son!" But they held me firm, their grip like a vice.

The doctor turned to me, his eyes apologetic. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Tina. I have to go." And with that, he rushed out of the room, leaving me alone with my fears.

I fought against the staff with all my might, but they were too strong. I was trapped, unable to do anything but watch as my son's life hung in the balance.

I thrashed about, my screams echoing off the hospital walls. "Jerry! No! No! NO!" But it was too late. The doctor and nurses rushed back into the room, their faces grim. The doctor's eyes met mine, and I saw the truth there.

"NO! NO! NO!" I wailed, my world shattering into a million pieces. They tried to hold me back, but I broke free, rushing to my son's side. Jerry lay still, his small body pale and lifeless. I collapsed beside him, my tears falling on his cold skin.

"Jerry, my baby, my sweet baby," I whispered, my heart shattered into a million pieces. "Come back to me, please come back." But it was too late. My son was gone, and I was left alone with my grief.

I'm consumed by a pain so intense it feels like my heart is being ripped apart. My son Jerry, my sweet boy, is gone. I can't bear the thought of living without him. My mind is a jumble of emotions, my thoughts racing with memories of Jerry's bright smile and infectious laughter.

I'm crying uncontrollably, my body shaking with sobs. The hospital room is a blur, the machines and equipment fading into the background as I wail in despair. I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of grief, unable to find a lifeline to cling to.

I rock back and forth, my arms wrapped around my body as if trying to hold myself together. I feel like I'm falling apart, like I'll never be whole again. The pain is too much to bear, too much to process.

I'm aware of the doctor and nurses trying to comfort me, but their words are lost on me. I'm beyond consolation, my heart too heavy to lift. I just want Jerry back, want to hold him in my arms and never let him go.

But deep down, I know that's not possible. Jerry's gone, and I'm left with only memories. The thought is too much to bear, and I surrender to my grief, letting it wash over me like a wave.

The doctor's eyes fill with tears as he watches me break down. He tries to speak, but his voice cracks with emotion. He takes a step closer, his hands reaching out as if to comfort me, but I shrink away, unable to bear his touch.

"Please," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "Just leave me alone."

The doctor nods, his face etched with sorrow. "I'm so sorry, Tina. I'm so sorry for your loss."

I feel like I'm going to collapse, like my body is going to give out under the weight of my grief. I force myself to take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down, but it's no use. The pain is too much, too overwhelming.

I look up at the doctor, my eyes pleading. "Tell me it's not true," I whisper. "Tell me Jerry and Princess are still alive."

The doctor's face contorts in anguish, and he shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Tina. They didn't make it."

I feel like I've been punched in the gut, like all the air has been sucked out of me. I double over, my body wracked with sobs. The doctor tries to comfort me again, but I push him away, unable to bear his touch. I'm alone in my grief, alone in my pain.