Dare’s words grow quieter and I strain to hear, because he’s talking through a tunnel, through light and wind and my heartbeat.
“You’re dying,” he whispers. “If you don’t wake up, you’ll be lost.”
Chapter 30
The world slows to a stop.
My heart beats.
It’s dark.
There is no ocean.
There are no waves.
There is no sun or rain or moon.
There is only my breathing, and beeps, and fingers wrapped around my hand, and I’m in a bed. I’m not in the ocean or the on the cliffs.
“Come back to me, Calla,” Dare whispers, and angst laces his words, and his words impale my heart. “Please God, come back to me. Time is running out. Don’t do this, please, God, don’t do this. They’re going to take you off the machine, and if you don’t breathe on your own, you’ll die. Please God. Please.”
He begs someone, whether it is God or me, I don’t know.
“We’ve already lost everything else,” he whispers. “Please, God. Come back to me. Come home to me. Come home.”
I try to open my eyes, but it’s too hard.
My eyelids are heavy.
The darkness is black.
Dare keeps talking, his words slow and soothing and I might float away on them. It would be so easy.
Death waits for me.
I can see his face now, and he waits in the light behind Dare’s shoulder.
He nods.
It’s time.
But it can’t be. Because Dare is here, and still holding my hand. He talks to me, he tells me everything that’s happened, and when he gets tired of talking, he hums.
The same wordless, tuneless song I’ve been hearing all along.
Death moves closer, one step nearer.
I try to cry out, but nothing comes.
I try again to open my eyes, but I can’t. And I can’t move my fingers.
It’s all too much.
Too much.
I think about getting frantic,
And I almost do.