Word Count: 2,919

The air was beginning to grow chilly as the onset of the autumn season started to work its way into the area. As I walked across campus from the library to my dorm a cool, light mist began to fall from the hazy sky. Normally at night I took the long way to my dormitory to avoid the dark areas behind some of the buildings. On this drizzly evening, I took the shortcut that led between a few administration buildings as well as half a dozen dormitory buildings. 

I was running late on this particular evening as I was picking up the slack for one young woman in our study group. That kept me in the library looking up research materials to help us complete a class project on which we now worked for a month. Jenny was not the most beautiful girl on campus, but to me she was. Most people felt she was a bit overweight, but I thought Jenny was perfect. 

Jenny was short and a little curvy, but she was one of the nicest people I ever met in my life. She did not sleep around and take part in the hookup culture that seemed to dominate life on universities, and I really respected that about her. I too wanted to save myself until marriage, so I hoped that would be the factor that would ultimately bring us together. 

A concern of mine all semester was that Jenny was only showing interest in me to get me to help her with her studies, but I held out hope she would one day develop romantic feelings for me. I thought we would make a good couple, and one day I hoped we would make a good family. Being a rather shy person, I did not pursue her too aggressively because of my fear of driving her away. It terrified me, though to think if I tried to play things too cool with her, she would end up falling for some other guy by the time of our graduation. 

As I turned along the walkway leading behind two rows of dorm buildings, I could see a couple of people underneath an ancient oak tree several buildings away. Initially, I thought the two were merely talking, but it did not take but a few seconds for me to grasp what was happening. One of those people was Jenny; there was no mistaking her. The other person I could not identify from here, but I was positive it was a male. This guy appeared to be in the midst of a now interrupted sexual assault. 

Dropping the things in my arms, I began to scream Jenny’s name as I burst into a full out run. Clearly the attacker heard me and saw me coming. I watched as the figure shoved Jenny to the ground and reached under his shirt withdrawing something tucked into the back of the beige cargo shorts he was wearing. I knew it had to be a weapon, most likely a gun, but I was not going to let that stop me. Hoping beyond hope the attacker would not be willing to shoot me, I continued to approach. 

Extending his arm toward me, Jenny’s attacker pointed the small firearm in my direction. A second later a bright flash emanated from the barrel of the gun as a loud bang rang in the still night. It felt like someone smashed me in the face with a sledgehammer when the bullet struck me, sending me falling backwards to the ground. I could hear Jenny yelling my name as she ran to me, and I lifted my head right in time to see my shooter vanish around the side of one of the dorm buildings. 

Jenny, who was almost the victim of this man’s violence, was crying as she ran over to me. I managed to sit up with very little difficulty. In an absolute panic, I raised my hands to my face to feel for the bullet wound. I was beyond relieved when I realized the bullet did no more than graze my cheek. Jenny began to panic when she saw the blood on the side of my face, but I assured her I was okay. 

Less than two minutes after the incident several campus police officers arrived, and a couple of the city police arrived shortly after that. After giving them my statement, the law enforcement officers present insisted I be taken to the hospital to be treated for my wound. After trying to argue with them over the topic for a brief time, I finally capitulated with their advice and allowed the paramedics to take me in for possibly needing stitches on my cheek. I could not see how bad the wound was, but it did not appear to be critical judging by the reaction of the law enforcement and rescue personnel. 

Jenny was there with a few other friends of ours when I left the emergency room with the side of my face covered in bandages. That beautiful brunette ran over to me and threw her arms around my torso. Through joyful tears, she thanked me over and over for risking my life to save her. I continued to stand there with my arms wrapped around her shoulders as our other friends approached to see how I was doing. 

A few minutes later, Jenny and the others took me to the drug store to get my pain meds and antibiotics filled before stopping to get something to eat. My face still hurt, so I ordered some soft foods I could break apart with my hands instead of my teeth. Once we finished with our quick meal, Jenny and the others dropped me off at my dorm building. 

Sleeping was a bit difficult that night regardless of the opioids, as I was accustomed to sleeping on my right side. With this streak on the right side of my head, I could not sleep the way I normally did. Sleeping on my left side felt extremely abnormal, but sleeping on my back had a tendency to cause me nightmares. I did not get a very good night’s rest, so I was thankful I had no exams the next day. 

Jenny and some others were waiting outside of the engineering building waiting for me to finish up with my second morning class. I thought she was so adorable when I saw her standing there, and my heart melted when Jenny ran over and gave me a firm kiss on my good cheek. The others joined us and told me how proud they were of me for standing up for Jenny, and she took this opportunity to thank me yet again. 

Over the course of the rest of the semester, Jenny and I found ourselves spending more and more time together. By the time our winter vacation rolled around, Jenny and I were officially dating. Initially, we considered one of us going to spend the holiday with the other’s family, but we ultimately decided against that. Both our families were very traditional, so both of us staying in one place or the other was not really among our list of options. 

It was almost agony for me to be away from Jenny for two weeks, as we were virtually inseparable since that night in the emergency room. I did not know if it was a result of the damsel syndrome or if Jenny was really falling in love with me, but I hoped very much it was the latter. All I had to do was save Jenny’s life to get her to think of me as a serious romantic interest and not just a side-guy trapped in the “friend zone.” 

I knew since my sophomore year I wanted Jenny to be my wife, but I was completely lost as to how and when I should ask her. I did not know if asking her before graduation would put too much pressure on her. On the other hand, I was afraid waiting would mean missing out as we lived in different parts of the state. Unless we had some sort of binding reason to do so, there was no guarantee we would even stay in contact once we finished our schooling. 

Ultimately, I decided I would propose to her a few weeks before our last semester was at an end. I planned everything down to the last detail. I booked reservations at the restaurant at the Omni Hotel, a fine establishment catering to the upper middle class to the middle upper class. It was more than I could really afford, but I managed to earn a little extra money giving private tutoring lessons. I excelled in math, engineering and such, which just so happened to be the subjects with which many of my school chums struggled. 

Once I made up my mind, I called my parents to tell them the news. By this time, they met Jenny on several occasions, and my parents really grew quite fond of her. They were overjoyed, but they tried not to allow themselves to become too excited until they found out what Jenny’s answer was. 

My mother offered me my grandmother’s engagement ring to give to Jenny if she were to accept my proposal. I could not believe it at first as I always thought my mother was going to take that ring to the grave with her. It meant the world to me for my mom to even make such a suggestion because it told me they truly had faith in Jenny and me. 

Seven months later, in front of all our friends and family, Jenny and I tied the knot. It was a modest but beautiful ceremony. Jenny’s aunt and uncle owned a beautiful piece of property on the lake, and we said our vows in front of the sparkling water as our loved ones watched on. I scarcely even noticed the small crowd gathered to watch us exchange vows as I told the woman I loved “I do.” 

Taking our wedding photos began to grow old, but I was willing to endure it because I knew my new bride wanted to put together a comprehensive wedding album. After enduring nearly an hour of posing for photographs, Jenny and I were finally able to join everyone at the reception. A few of the guests already left by that time, but most everyone remained. 

When the time came for us to cut the cake, Jenny and I held the blade of the knife together and began to make the first cut. Suddenly a searing pain shot through my head as a bright flash flooded my vision. I could hear Jenny yelling my name as my body went limp, and I crumpled to the ground. 

I awoke several hours later in the hospital with an IV running into my arm. My wife and my parents were in the room with me and my in-laws sat in the hallway. While I was unconscious, the hospital performed x-rays of my skull before performing a CAT scan. Although my blood pressure reached the danger level, and being a bit dehydrated, the doctors could find nothing else wrong with me. 

After staying in the hospital overnight for observation, I was released the next morning. Thankfully our airline tickets taking us to our honeymoon destination did not have us leaving for one more day. When we planned this originally, it was so we would not be in such a rush to get from our wedding to the airport. It turned out this decision kept us from missing our honeymoon completely. 

Although I got the occasional migraine headache, I did not experience pain like I did during our reception until a few weeks after the birth of our second child and our first little girl. My mother and mother-in-law were both at the house with Jenny helping take care of the house and children when I returned home from work. No sooner did Jenny kiss me on the cheek and welcome me home than my eyes were filled with a blinding light. My head felt like someone hit me with a log, and I could hear nothing anyone said to me because of the pain ringing in my skull. 

As with the previous case, the pain was so intense it caused me to lose consciousness. This time the examining doctors did not write it off as stress and dehydration as this time the x-ray and CAT scan revealed a small mass inside my skull about the size of a pencil eraser. My wife and I were both in shock after hearing what the doctor had to say. There was a possibility the tumor could be removed, but it was a difficult procedure and came with a lot of risk.

I was far beyond terrified, but I knew I had to confront this head on. I could not pretend it was not there and hoped it would go away on its own. I had a wife and two children to consider. With the tumor the size it currently was, there was a lot better chance of the surgeons removing it successfully than if I waited until it grew even larger.

Over the course of the next months, I endured a battery of tests and spoke to multiple specialists in this field of oncology. Five weeks after my initial diagnosis, I found myself scheduling the surgery. It still seemed like some kind of terrible nightmare. I could not believe at my age, I was dealing with a brain tumor whose removal could mean permanent brain damage. I wanted to watch my children grow and have families of their own. I looked forward to the days of being a grandparent.

I was surrounded by my wife, children, parents and in-laws when the orderlies came to wheel me away for surgery. Jenny was fighting back her tears trying to be strong for me, but I could clearly see the fear in her eyes. I was not so much afraid of death as I was afraid of what would happen to Jenny and the kids if I did not make it through this. I had a small life insurance policy, but nothing that could sustain them for more than a few years.

Once in the operating room, the anesthesiologist told me he was going to put the mask on my face and for me to count backward from ten. He assured me when I woke up it would all be over with. I did as he instructed, but I did not even make it to five before the drugs he administered had me out cold.

Although I was not truly dreaming, my mind was filled with a multitude of red and blue flashing lights as well as white lights that seemed to be unwavering. I could not hear or feel anything, I just continued to see those lights while I was under the anesthetic. I could feel no pain, but I did not think the gas put me under as deeply as it should. The surgeons did warn me that I could expect to experience some strange sensations and sensory input that was not there, and I guessed this was what they meant.

When I awoke, I found only my parents sitting beside my recovery bed. The very moment my mother saw my eyes begin to stir she jumped up and was at my side in an instant. My father, who looked like he had not shaved in weeks, was a bit slower to react. He jumped to his feet and both of them stood over me crying tears of joy.

I asked my parents where Jenny was, but they both looked at each other in confusion.

“Where are Jenny and the kids?” I asked through a sore and strained voice.

“Was Jenny one of your friends from school?” my mother asked me.

I began to panic as I reached back to feel the bandage from the surgery. There was a bandage there, but I also felt a small plastic tube running into my skull. My father pulled my hand away and told me I had to leave that alone. It was allowing the blood in my skull to drain and relieve the pressure that kept me unconscious this whole time.

What? What in the hell was he talking about? Allowing the blood in my skull to drain?

“Son,” my father said somberly, “you were involved in a shooting at the university.”

I knew this, but I did not understand why he was explaining it to me again.

“The shot went into your cheek bone and lodged in your brain. The surgeons removed the bullet, but you’ve been in a coma for more than a month,” my father explained.

No, this could not be. I survived that attack with nothing more than a graze on the side of my face. That was when Jenny and I fell in love. That was when a whole new chapter in my life began.

Devastated could not begin to describe what I felt when my parents explained to me the shooting was only six weeks prior, and everything I experienced I experienced solely in my head. Jenny and I never dated, we never married, and we most assuredly had no children together. It was just as I feared as the orderlies wheeled me away on that gurney for surgery. I knew I was never going to see them again.

Copyright © 2024

Photo by Tim Foster from Freerange Stock

Views: 8