Long Way From Home

Prologue

At first when I opened my eyes, I thought I'd gone blind. 

Terror coursed through me in that unremembered nightmare kind of way – when the dream hangs on, still real enough to be scary, but not so clear that you can say what it was that frightened you about it.

Breathe, I told myself. In. Out.

Slowly, I lifted my hand.  But it was so dark that I couldn't even see the outline of it.  Fear hit me again, and before I could remind myself to stay calm, I waved my fingers frantically in front of my face, desperate to see them.  I couldn’t.

My gaze flicked to one side, then the other.  Nothing but blackness.

Oh, God.

This was no dream.

A scream built in the back of my throat, and I let it out because I had to.  And it provided a momentary distraction.  Because while I could feel the burn of my voice against my vocal cords, I couldn't hear the sound of it.

What the hell? I thought, suddenly more irritated than afraid.

Even though I couldn't see, I closed my eyes, sighing heavily in frustration.  I made myself ignore the fact that although I could feel the air leaving my body, I couldn't hear that either. 

The blackness extended to my hearing as well as my sight.

I tried to remember what the last thing I'd been doing was, but my brain felt fuzzy.

Think, Lindsay.

Had I been drinking something, maybe, that made me so forgetful? 

Yes. 

Vodka and orange juice to calm my nerves.  I’d taken a big sip, then put my head down awkwardly on a lumpy pillow.

I frowned at the recollection.  It didn't make any sense. My pillows at home were most definitely not lumpy.

I suddenly became aware that I could actually hear... something.  A high-pitched whine that sounded like it was coming from all around me.  I lifted my hand and placed it on my forehead.  The pitch of the ringing was becoming unbearable very quickly.  I covered my ears, and the noise became even worse.

“Dear God,” I muttered.

The sound was coming from inside rather than from outside.

I shook my head, and the shrillness reverberated back and forth with the movement.

Should I stand up?  I thought, and then added wryly, Even though I just realized that I'm sitting down.