Red Blooded

Chapter 11 - Survival Instincts

Death is a thief.

He takes the unwilling and leaves a whole in the lives of others.

Death is unforgiving.

He takes the big, the small, the guilty...and the innocent.

Death claims.

He takes to hell and rarely spits a soul back out.

Death will have your gut wrenching, your heart pacing and your mind collapsing. Death will show mercy and will take anyway, leaving the world around others to plunge into darkness. But even though Death could do so much...

He failed to take me.

I lived.

Something beeped in the distance, sounding off every second, matching the pace of my heart. It wasn't a sound I was familiar with. It was almost robotic, constant even; like it reminded me that I was alive. I counted the beats of my heart, thumping. It was all I could hear. My fingers moved slowly, down by my side. The feel of the fabric felt strange underneath my fingers. It didn't feel like my bed sheets.

Where was I?

I willed my eyes to open but I struggled, straining to lift them even just a little bit. I attempted numerous times to get my eyes to open, and after what felt like a millennia, they did.

Everything was dark. Pretty much exactly the way I felt.

My eyes opened to a dimly lit room. A hospital room. Knowing that I would have energy to move, I lay there on the hospital bed and recalled the last thing I remembered.

Crick had betrayed me. He actually betrayed me.

The beeping monitor quickened when the paced of my heart did too. The conscious effort I made to slow my heart led the monitor to resume to a normal paced of beeping. I sighed...and then cringed. My throat felt dry, it ached.

How long had I been confined to this bed? I hoped not long. Not one soul walked into my hospital room; not one person came to my side.

Damn. I was blind. How could I trust others when I couldn't even trust my family? When I couldn't even bear to be around them? It was my fault - my fault entirely.

My breathing sounded coarse, harsh, as if my voice had broken. I felt numb though; that was a good thing. I had lost a part of my sanity standing in that lobby, having their eyes on me - betraying me. I couldn't rely on them anymore. I wouldn't rely on them anymore. Out with old, but I wouldn't let anything new in - I couldn't. Trust would never be so easily gained anymore - it just wouldn't.

I became restless, just lying there, thinking about the one act that had my stomach spinning. Taking a deep breath in, I turned my head and braced myself for the onslaught of pain that I thought I would feel...but nothing came. Not one ounce of electrifying, mind hammering pain came. I blew out a soft sigh, thanking God for small mercies. With small, tiny movements, I began to get up, to sit up...but stopped when I noticed the IV line. I looked down at the needle stuck in my arm and followed it all the way to saline bag.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I tugged gently at the wire poking out of my skin and winced just a little when it stung - but I would deal with that pain, so long as it wasn't killing me. The controller for the bed caught my eye; I grabbed it and pressed the button to lift the top half of the bed up slightly, so I could sit up and rest my back at the same time. I sat like that for a while, with the controller in my hand, my head against the pillow, the beeping of the monitor keeping me company.