♠ Don't Hold Your Breath ♠
"I never should've tried the fucking show, mom," came a small, squeaky voice from underneath the stark white covers that lay atop a hospital bed. Parker Dixon lay on the hard surface, his mother a few feet away on one of the even harder and more uncomfortable chairs situated beside it. She grimaced at both the state of his voice and the way he swore, continuously trying to break him of that habit. "Like, what the fuck was I thinking? My voice fucking can't handle it!"
A sigh came from the chair beside the smallish bed, and as he peered out from under the blankets he viewed his mother, shaking her head in part annoyance, part sympathy. She knew he'd merely wanted to test his limits, to get back into music, but she'd also warned him against it. Not only had she, but so had his sister, his father, his grandparents... and of course, the doctor, whom he'd seen a week or so prior to his own solo show in their hometown of La Jolla.
"I know you don't really expect me of all people to say this, Parker," she began, brushing a piece of her blonde hair from her face, "But we all told you so." She gave him a pitying look as he groaned, pulling the covers over his head once again. "Don't pout about it, son," she chuckled, knowing full well that's what the boy would be doing. "At least you're going to be okay. But, you need that surgery soon. You can't have it for a while, I suppose. That's what the doctor said at least - because your vocal cords are much too tender at the moment."
Parker peeked out again, raising his eyebrow. He attempted to clear his throat but winced at the feeling, biting into his lip as he reached for the ginger ale beside the bed on the table. Something about the carbonated beverage helped his throat feel a bit more soothed, and he took a slow, steady sip before speaking. "Shouldn't they act now or something? I'm really freaking confused. Am I just supposed to wait and fucking lose my voice in the meantime?" Parker broke out in a coughing fit, and with the racket a nurse quickly shuffled in as she was passing by. Handing him a dose of a medication, she nodded to him, and he gave a small smile among his coughing before taking the small cup. Downing the liquid medication, he allowed it to soothe his throat, falling out of his coughing fit with an unsteady motion as he lay back against the paper-covered pillow.
Taking in a deep breath, he looked over as he felt his mother's hand upon his leg, stroking the limb through the scratchy sheet that the California hospital had supplied him with. Within moments he was drowsy as could be, and in the field of his hazing vision, all he saw was a girl. A girl, her long brown hair flowing in the wind, her hand beckoning him forth. She was calling him to her, he realized, and though his mind slipped into a sleepy fog, drowning him in the flood of sleep that took him over, Parker still reached forward with one of his hands. Although he couldn't call out to her, he tried, and as he fell deeply into sleep his dream faded into a silent game of cat and mouse that he was eager to win.
