I struggle to run from the blackness. I fight it with everything I have, and it’s still too strong for me. My chest hurts from all the running.
"Her breathing is getting better." I hear the voice as I try to push the darkness away. “We are going to take out her breathing tube and see."
"Is that going to hurt her?" the soft voice asks as something rubs my hand.
"You are going to have to give me some space," the woman says, and the touch on my hand doesn’t move.
"Oh, don’t look at me like that," the man says. The woman laughs.
"You know, in the beginning, you sitting here the whole time was sweet. Now, you are just becoming a pain."
He’s been sitting here the whole time? Why? I wonder. Why is he still here?
"Before I start this," the woman says, “I need you to know that she might be in just a touch of pain.” I feel tugging on my chest.
"Why is her heart speeding up?" The man’s voice is frantic.
"It’s coming back down,” she says, huffing out. “If you guys ever have children"—she laughs—“I want to sit in the waiting room and watch."
The pain in my throat goes away and then I feel little touches on my hand.
I hear the beeping, and the sound comes closer and closer as I move toward the rock. My eyes fly open, but one is still sealed shut. I look around frantically, not sure where I am. My breaths come out almost in pants as I fight off the heaviness of my eyes. The pain hits me right away and knocks the air right out of me.
I try to get my heart rate down just a bit as I look around the room. Hospital room. The light from outside hits me right away, and I close my eye again. The pain in my head is making me keep it closed just a touch longer as it shoots to my stomach.
I open my eye slowly as I take in the room. My eyes go from the closed door to the corner of the room that faces the window. The blinds are also closed but the sunlight fights to come in.
I close my eyes, trying to pick up my hand, but it’s too heavy. I swallow, and the burning makes me close my eyes to catch my breath.
When my eyes open again, they’re not as heavy as the last time, but my head continues to pound. I look around the room and stop when I see him sitting in the chair. He has his head back, and his eyes are closed. His hands are folded over his chest while his long legs are stretched out in front of him. His hair is lighter than it was in the dark. His black clothes are gone and in their place are blue jeans with a gray T-shirt. My heart speeds up this time, scared that this man is still here. Why is he still here? My fingers start to move up and down with the nerves inside me. I look around, wondering how I could escape. I try to lift my leg just a touch, but nothing moves.
Was his voice the one I’ve been hearing?
I lick my dry lips as I fight to keep my eyes open. The heaviness is coming on strong. I close my eyes just to rest them for a second, slowly blinking, but they remain shut.
I don’t have the energy to open them again, but this time, the darkness comes with a vengeance.
The beeping from the machines lulls me back to sleep.
"Did you eat?" I hear a woman’s voice, and my eyes flicker open.
I want to open my eyes longer, but my body just sinks into the bed, and I drift off.
"It’s been four days,” he says angrily. “You said twenty-four to forty-eight hours." Four days, I repeat to myself. Have I really been asleep for four days? That is impossible. I must have heard wrong.
"I said that those hours were critical," another man says. “The swelling in her brain has gone down. That is amazing news. That she is still alive is a miracle. I’ll see you tomorrow."
I moan, hoping that they hear me. I try to lift my hands, but it feels like I have concrete in them. I’m here, I yell. My voice is screaming in my head.
The sound of his shoes are moving away from me. "I’m going to need you to open your eyes, please." His voice is close to me. My hand is getting hot from being in his. "Show me those green eyes."
I force my eyes to open to show him my eyes. I force my eyes to open so I can make sure he’s not waiting for me in a dark corner to pull me out of this bed and drag me back to the place he calls home. Which is my hell, where I spent the past eight years trying to escape. Every single time being sucked back in.