Eye for an Eye Ch. 1

This was a story that I got inspiration for as of recent. Let me know how you all like it. This is first real story that I am attempting outside of the "Science Fiction" world that we have going on here at Literotica. I hope that everyone likes it. Comment please!

My apologies ahead of time for my writing style… the story is going to start off slow at first, but I love to give a lot of back story on my characters. I am going to take an interesting turn with this. So the next chapter of the story is going to be from Danni's point of view. I hope it does not get too confusing.

Bare with me though. I have a lot of ideas and I would like to continue this story. Please let me know what you guys think! Comment, comment, comment! I will only continue if I get good feedback. Thanks!

The dream seemed to last forever. They say that your mind plays tricks on you, and while in a coma this is truly what happens. Everything that I could remember was so vague that my ability to recall a certain event during the coma was nearly impossible. But the feeling was still there. I felt like that my whole life was reminded and fast-forwarded several times until the second that I woke up.

I really can remember everything. It just takes awhile, and a lot of effort. If I concentrate enough I can remember hearing someone say something, or the touch of a hand on my arm. Sometimes I can even recall the words that the doctors had told my family. I can remember the tears. I can remember the harsh words, the fights, the arguments, and I can remember the decision to take me off life-support. Everything.

The human mind is sometimes taken for granted. It was as-if my body knew that I was being put to death, and the will to live was there. I remember opening my eyes, and taking that one deep breath. The breath of life and the taste of fresh hospital air filled my lungs. I could smell it all. My vision took a few seconds to adjust to the months of non-use, but it eventually did. I could see my parents. Their faces were amazed. The doctors, the nurses, and the rest of my family were all crying. My life had just begun—again.

The car accident was quick. I was hit by a drunk driver and sent over a bridge into a ditch. The car rolled several times and being the idiot that I was I didn't wear my seat belt. I still will never forgive myself for that. After a week or two of constant checkups I was finally able to see my initial charts. I had a massive head injury and bleeding to the brain. I had two broken legs, a collapsed lung, a broken list and a broken nose (I didn't like my nose anyway). My left shoulder was torn out of socket and I was lucky that my neck wasn't broken. The head injury is obviously what ultimately got me.

It was three months, two weeks, six days, fourteen hours, and thirty-three minutes between the time I was emitted to the emergency room and the time that I woke up from my coma. Three months. That was a nearly a whole school semester at college. I had lost several months of time, the ability to recall names and faces on a dime, but I was alive. My mind was still recuperating from the accident when I made the choice to switch schools. It was always my goal to finish college because my parents had never gone themselves. I wasn't giving up because of some amnesia and rehabilitation.

This whole experience is regrettable. I would never want to wish it on anyone or go through the same thing again. But I can't totally wish that it didn't happen to me. You see, it caused me to get a new view on life, and ultimately tell you what this story is about. This story is about love. This story is about the girl that changed my life. The girl that brought me up from the depression, the anguish, and pain that plagued me. If it was not for this accident, not for that driver, and not for those drinks that he had at the bar prior to hitting me I would have never met her. I would have never changed my schools. I would have never gone so far from home that I would need to fly back just to see some family.

This is where my story begins.

It was only a few months since my departure from the intensive care ward in the hospital. With my parents bidding I had made the choice to go to a school a few states away instead of the local state institution. There was a reason for this. My amnesia affected me enough that I could not recall many names or faces. The interesting part is that I remember all of my lectures, notes, tests, class projects, and the games of football that we religiously played Sunday afternoons in the quad. The people though, disappeared, and the only thing that was in their place was memories of events.

So I decided to start from scratch and in order to do so I needed to move. I wanted to move. The closer that I was to home the more I would be reliant on my parents and the less I would need to rely on myself. That was my mentality and I am sticking by it to this day. But honestly it was the fact that I could not remember my friends that struck me. I would look at someone that I graduated high school with and not remember who they were. The face was recognizable but I could not put a name to it. I could not put a movie to it. I didn't even know if I had sex with a girl! I know that I wasn't a virgin but I could not even remember the last person that I had sex with! I was scared. So I decided to start fresh. That's exactly what I did.

My twenty-first birthday had just passed as I began school at a decent-sized university. I refused to have a handicapped accommodation because I would only be on crutches for a few more months. So I was thrown into a single room on the second floor of the building. After the initial mingling everything was going smoothly. It took awhile to get used to the crowd but soon I was accepted and amongst friends. The month of September had passed and my classes were going well. The rehabilitation was going well. The general focus of my life was going well. That is except my love life. That was non-existent. I guess the women just didn't want to hang out with a crippled guy. Who could blame them? I nearly gave up on women until my rehabilitation left me with two working legs, that is, until I found her.

That story is interesting in and of itself. It was a rainy day. One of those days that you absolutely do not want to go outside for the fear of floating away in a quick current of gutter water. Of course my class was a good deals away and being the moron that I am I decide that instead of using my "handicap-card" to sleep in that I was going to make the trek to class. The buildings were empty. But I was an arcitect major and I needed to be at every class that I could attend. It was a laboring major. But I loved it. I loved it up until the point that I got to the classroom and read the sign that class was canceled. I was indeed a major asshole.

As I was making my way to the stairs my crutch decided to slip and cause me to fall down a good flight of stairs. I am full of luck, aren't I? My head received a good bang and everything went white-wash for a few minutes. I was feeling it all over again. The feeling that I never wanted to feel again. I could feel that my wrist had indeed been turned the wrong way and most likely fractured again. Through the haze of my vision a female beauty loomed over my lifeless body. A few quick screams later, some talking, and probably jibberish coming out of my fat mouth got me to the emergency room.

Yeah. A mild concussion and another fracture of the wrist. I was definitely on a ball this year. After spending a few hours on the phone with the parents convincing them that I was not coming home I made it back to my dorm. I hobbled my way out to the cafeteria because I was in need of some nutrition. That is where I saw her. The beauty that helped me. This was my chance. So I played the handicap card and cut to the front of the line, grabbed some grub, and got in line behind her.

She was amazing. Her black hair flowed down past her shoulders, she had creamy white skin, and her body was perfect. She had all the right curves. I instantly felt that pit in my stomach grow larger. I could tell, at least from this view-point, that she was into the whole "gothic" scene. I was not really sure what that mean as I did not enjoy labeling people, but that was the only way that I could describe her. It was sexy. So I decided to make my love.

"Hey, there, excuse me…", I put one hand on her shoulder. Of course, what happened next, I did not expect. I wasn't prepared to defend myself and having two crutches in my hand did not help either.

"You fucking asshole…", she said as she turned around and socked me one right in the face. I stumbled back and fell on my ass. It took her a few seconds to realize who exactly I was and she rushed over to help me up.

"Oh my, are you okay? I am so fucking sorry! I thought you were some pig trying to… shit… are you bleeding?"

"No, no, that is from before. I just wanted to say thank-you. Damn girl you have a good right-hand there", I couldn't help but laugh as she helped me back up to my feet. After a few seconds of sorting myself together I continued the conversation.

"If it isn't too much I would like to buy you dinner", I looked over her tray, "That is, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, some ruffles, and a crystal light." We both laughed loudly and I hobbled over to cashier to pay her before she had a chance to say otherwise. I plopped my ass down on a chair and ate what I could of my recovered ham sandwich.

"The guy that you saved from most likely being humiliated by some of his late classmates is Dave", I put my hand out to shake hers. She kept her long sleeves down almost over her hands and put hers out to mine. I could tell that she was a shy person.

"Well I figured that it was my civic duty and all to help a fallen guy in crutches. If it was my choice I probably would have left you there to rot", we both laughed simutaniously, "my name is Danielle."

I took another bite from my sandwich looking into her beautiful green eyes as we both ate in silence. I was not the best person to break the ice but I could tell that the burden was going to be on me. So I decided to tell the story of how my crutch-hugging Italian ass came to be at that school.

"Wow, that is an amazing story", she finally said after my lecture on the subject. "Sometimes I wish that I could have been in a coma for a good portion of my life. It must be good not to be able to remember all of the bad things that happened to you." Her eyes left mine and watched the sun setting over the quad.

I could not believe what I was hearing from her.

"Good? I lost my whole life. I lost my friends. My memories", the reality of the situation was weighing on my shoulders again and I matched her gaze into the sunset, "I lost myself. You do not know how hard it has been. I would not wish this on anyone."

"Well not everyone has a good outlook on life. That is, memories, and friends."

I took my hands from hers which caused her to look back at me.

"How could you not have any good memories?", my heart started to sink even more now for this girl. I saw that this was not a subject that she wished to continue to talk about. She started gathering up her books and papers.

"Thanks for the meal. I really must be going", and with that she got up and left. I am not sure why I did not follow after her to stop her. There was just so much running through my head at this point. How could someone want their whole life erased? She did not have any good memories? What had happened to this girl? The whole wobble back to my dorm I thought of what could have happened to her. Who she could have lost, or what she could have done to make her feel like that. So many questions.

I was never a person that believed in God. Some would call me an Atheist, but I was more of a person that was waiting for something to believe in. I was scientific. I needed to see, hear, or feel things in order to make my assumptions about them. This is precisely why I do believe in conscience. This was the first time that I truly thought that things happen for a reason.

After spending some time in my dorm thinking about the events of the day I ventured outside to get some fresh air. By the clocks outside it was two-thirty in the morning and the campus was dead. After a few rounds of hobbling around and breathing the fresh air I headed back to my dorm. I heard a slight scream of pain which caused me to go over to a secluded area of the quad.

Danni was sitting down on a bench with a knife in her hand. She had just systematically cut her arm in which I was later to find out was a form of self-harm called "cutting." I moved over to her and put my arm gently on hers and I could smell the alcohol on her breath. I could literally taste the vodka.

"What are you doing to yourself?"

"Leave me alone! This is my own thing j-j-ust go", she slurred as she tried to get up but fell back down on the bench. I put my arm under hers and lifted her up and braced her against me as best as I could. My right crutch dropped and hit the ground near the bench and we started walking towards my dorm. I was not about to let this girl pass out drunk in the middle of the quad with knife cuts.

"Danni you're going to need to help me here", I said as we neared the dorm. The security guard had left his post and I was able to get her to the staircase without any incident. My room was on the second floor as soon as you walked through the door, but the walk upstairs proved to be fifty-times harder than with crutches. We finally reached my dorm after ten minutes of struggling up a flight of stairs.

Danni passed out on my bed a few minutes after I set her down there. I removed the knife from her pocket and cleaned up her arm with some paper-towels. This was the first time that I was able to see her full body, and I lifted her sleeves up.

There were several scabs and scars that traveled up both of her arms. I had heard of this before but this was the first time that I was actually encountering a person that had the problem. My fingers touched a rather deep scar and I watched her stir in her sleep. She was truly beautiful. Her breasts were not large but they fit her body perfectly. The slender figure and the white complexion were a great accent to the whole "gothic" image. I removed her shoes and pulled the blankets up over her body.

"An eye for an eye", I whispered quietly as I kissed her forehead. "Sleep well."