Misery- Chapter 1

OK, so this chapter's short, but I'll have more up soon. I don't know if it'll be today, but I've already finished this story. I just have to type it up...Just warning you, it's really sad toward the end...

"Jeez, John," Paul said as he helped him mate into the hospital, "Why can't you go one night without getting into a fight?"

John rolled his eyes and tried to flex his hurt fingers. "He started it, Paulie!" John complained childishly, "He touched my guitar."

Paul answered with another eye roll and and a scoff as they walked up to the front desk.

"Can I help you?" the triage nurse asked looking at the two over the rim of her thick glasses.

"Yes, I'm Paul and this is John," he said pointing to his injured friend, "He hurt his hand in a fight."

The nurse nodded and told them to sit down and wait for the doctor. There were a few sick looking kids there and a few other injured people. John grumbled under his breath as they walked over to a couple of seats in the waiting room. Every now and then John would groan and or curse under his breath in discomfort. The mothers in the room looked mortified by John's language and Paul was apologizing alot.

"John you have to stop." he said.

"I'm sorry, Paulie!" John whined, "It hurts!"

"Just try and...not say those words." Paul said seriously. John gritted his teeth and tried not to speak.

A few minutes later John was being checked out by Dr. Freud.

"Well, Mr. Lennon," he said, "You've broken two fingers and fractured the other." Paul face palmed and groaned loudly.

"What?" John asked looking mortified, "We have shows and concerts to play! Records to record!"

"I'm sorry, but you won't be able to play the guitar for at least six weeks." Freud said

"But-" Paul started.

"No!" Dr. Freud said, "Six weeks and you're staying over night."

John groaned as Freud left the room.

"Man, Eppy's gonna flip!" Paul said running his hands through his hair, "I better go."

"What? No, you can't just leave me here!" John said grabbing his shirt.

"Oh, you'll be fine," Paul scoffed, "You'll spent the night and Freud'll have you fixed up in a couple days."

John groaned and flopped back on the bed, hurting his hand in the process.