I woke up two days later, my arms and legs strapped down to a bed. My shirt felt wet and my mouth felt dry and tasted of vomit. I had an IV in my left arm, but I couldn't feel it, I still felt numb.
I laid there in that bed in confusion for hours, and as feeling returned, I realized I had a catheter, which was very uncomfortable, and pain swept through my body. I didn't know how long I was in there but eventually I heard the door open and a portly nurse walked in. Realizing I was awake she came over and shown a flashlight in my eyes. "You ok?"
I just shook my head. We talked more and I was let out of the restraints, and able to change into a pair of hospital issued clothes made of what seemed like paper. I shook as they let me to another room and left me there for another few hours.
I was able to get some sleep, but was woken when Stacie walked in. Once I saw her I started crying, seeing her face all bruised. She explained what actually happened that morning, and that I spent that day, and the following two after screaming and crying, which was why I was strapped down.
I couldn't believe that she was actually there talking to me, being so nice to me; she actually seemed worried about me. I apologized again and again for hitting her, but she said it was her fault for giving me laced weed. I wondered why only one of the joints was laced, and she explained they were made with two different bags, from two different people at the party.
We talked the whole hour that they let her stay, when then a doctor...