Due to public demand I'm migrating to a myspace blog instead of this.  As of now this is retired and you can catch my writing at:

 

http://www.myspace.com/stephenhurn

As she looked in the mirror Rachael could not help but notice the weight that she had put on.  It made her feel weak and vulnerable.  She hated what she had become.  The children had become more and more unmanageable.  Her work was stressing her out.  She felt bloated.  Depressed she slipped on her cardigan and left her bedroom. 

 

Outside a car horn went off.  The kids were with Ian for the weekend and so Rachael had no real responsibilities and was planning on going out for the night with Sarah and Janice.  Rachael quickly pulled her shoes onto her feet and made her way to the front door.  She searched through her handbag to find her keys.  After locking the door behind her she carefully picked her way down the overgrown pathway to the parked car.  The door was already opened for her, the two girls buckled in and ready to go.

 

"Hey," said Sarah.

 

"Hey," Rachael replied.

 

"Are you ready to have some fun?" Sarah chirped, having turned herself so that she could see Rachael from her seat in the front.

 

"Yeah I suppose," Rachael replied in a non-committal tone.

 

"Tonight is your night chicky.  We're gonna find you a tall handsome man," Sarah said in an annoyingly upbeat voice.

 

"Babe, we plan on getting you so drunk that ANY man you find will be tall, dark and handsome," Janice added as she pulled the car around the first corner.  A small smile touched the corner of Rachael's lips.  The banter kept up until the girls pulled into a side street behind the bar.

 

After nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk Rachael entered the bar.  It was noisy but not quite full.  She squeezed through a group of people and stood at the counter. 

 

"Three screwdrivers," Rachael stated having leaned over the counter so that the bartender could hear her over the raucous.

 

"What?" the young bartender replied.

 

"Vodka and orange," was Rachael's reply which had a more icey tone than the comment deserved.

 

"Righto," was the response from the young man.

 

It took him a few seconds to prepare the drinks, during which time Rachael took the opportunity to scan the crowd.  They were mostly young people in their twenties.  As she took the glasses she spotted her friends, who had taken the opportunity to find a nice little booth with a small group of single men.  They appeared to be getting along famously.  Rachael pushed her way through the crowd to get to them.

 

"I saw the way you looked at her!" a man boomed from Rachael's left.

 

"I'll look at whoever I want to look at," came the arrogant reply.

 

Rachael hurried to get to her seat, but as she did one of the men took a swipe at the other, knocking him back into her.  Rachael lost her balance, twisted on her right foot and fell, hitting her head on a nearby bench.  She was out cold.

 

**********************

 

Rachael awoke with a massive headache.  Slowly she opened her eyes.  The room was bright, almost jarringly so.  As her eyes began to focus she noticed some things.  A handle dangled from the roof above her.  She was lying in bed, surrounded by a curtain.  She began to realise that she was in a hospital.  She was still groggy though and closed her eyes for a few more moments.  When she opened her eyes again she was met with an obviously startled nurse.

 

"Oh my, I'd better call the doctor," the nurse could be heard mumbling to herself.  She was younger than Rachael, but only by a few years though she appeared to keep herself in extremely good physical condition, which was more than Rachael could say about herself.

 

Surveying the scene closer Rachael found a needle in her arm, which she felt had a tube attached to it.  Slowly she realised that she was on a drip.  What had happened?  Through her headache Rachael forced from herself memories of the night at the bar.

 

"How long have I been out?" Rachael tried her obviously weak voice.

 

"The doctor will answer all of your questions," the nurse replied.  And so Rachael waited for what seemed like hours.

 

Finally the doctor arrived.  "Good evening Rachael," said the doctor calmly.

 

"How long?" was all that Rachael could force out.

 

"Well you hit your head extremely hard and gave yourself a severe concussion.  Unfortunately we could not prevent you from lapsing into a coma.  I hate to tell you this Rachael, but you've been unconscious for around seven months.  The paramedics tell me that you're lucky to be alive.  The force which you hit the corner of that table could have killed you had you hit it a couple of centimetres lower.  For now you need rest.  We will be monitoring you for at least a couple of weeks before you'll be right to go home."

 

Rachael would have wept, but did not have the energy.  She'd lost over half a year.  She wondered what her children would look like, or whether they would even recognise her like this.  She felt so very weak.  All of a sudden she was angry.  She was angry with the men who caused this.  She was angry at Ian for his infidelity.  But most of all she was angry with herself.  She had lost so much of her life.  It was time for her to take it back.  She would have to spend a lot of time recovering, but her resolve was now iron clad.  It was time for her to stop being the victim and start being proactive.  Her first priority would be to be the best mother she could be, and to do that, she reasoned, she would need to get herself into shape and get her personal life in order.  But for now it was time to rest.