The Life of Charlotte Diaz

Chapter 17. A Change in the Air

Not Edited 

It wasn't Death awaiting me on the other end, unfortunately. I'm not saying that as if I'm suicidal, but I wouldn't be opposed to it after what just happened. Nothing slipped my memory when I began to come too.

Nathan. Oh, God. I gulped, my lips trembling when my lower regions began to throb painfully. I didn't want to believe it. No, no, no. It couldn't be true. He couldn't have gotten that far- could he?

Even though I remembered clearly what happened, it was all fuzzy. And I had my eyes shut so tightly, too afraid to look into his eyes. I couldn't. I didn't have the will. But I didn't hear a zipper. I don't even think his pelvic area came into contact with me at all- that I could recall.

And then, there was a voice-

"Charlotte,"

I started to grow confused. That voice. It was the same voice I heard when it happened. It sounded familiar- too familiar.

Feeling spread throughout the rest of my body slowly and in seconds I was tensing every muscle to escape the numbness. When it came to my hands, I froze mid-tense. It was warm. Very warm and it felt odd. The feeling that is. It seemed as if an incredibly warm glove was wrapped around it, shielding it from the bitter cold to send a nice and cozy sort of tenderness straight to my chest. The hold on my hand grew slightly tighter. I didn't want it to leave. It felt so gentle- so ... secure?

I didn't truly know the right words in order to express how great this felt but I was in no way complaining.

"She moved! Her hand tensed! I felt it! I felt it!" The same voice I heard earlier whisper-shouted. Just like that, the gentle feeling was gone to be replaced by a cold and empty feeling when the glove-like hold on my hand left. I wanted to reach out to try and find the source of the warmth but my limbs were still too heavy.

Stupid Charlotte. So, so stupid!

I should've never gone out at that time of night. This had to be the second time I've been to the hospital this year for being so foolish!

"Charlotte. Charlie, please doll, please wake up. Please." Grandma. I recognized her tired voice anywhere.

Just so I could see a familiar face, I willed myself to open my eyes. They still felt heavy but certainly not as heavy as when they last closed. I blinked rapidly, expecting to see a bright room with lights everywhere. But, though I was in a room, there were no bright lights. In fact, the more I blinked myself out of my blurry haze the more clear everything was.

The lights were all out. The window was covered by blinds and the only source of lighting was the lights in the hallway but a few feet from my room. The room looked homey, actually. There was a vase of lilies on the small table by my bed along with a telephone and a few magazines. I knew the flowers were from my grandma. Another sweep around the room and I noticed another door across from my bed that was slightly ajar- most likely the bathroom. A small beige, plush chair sat on the other side of my bed with wooden tiles covering the floor. And then, there was a tiny t.v hooked up on the wall angled so I could see what was on the screen. It was turned off, of course.

After getting my look around the room I let my gaze settle on the two silent people in the room, each staring at me with an equal amount of concern in their eyes. I suppose it could even be categorized as fear. Nonetheless, I cocked my head to the side, waiting for somebody to speak up.

My grandma was sitting comfortably on the chair next to me, and Luke was kneeling on the floor on the other side. I looked at his hands. They were holding onto the railings of my bed tightly. He must've been holding my hand.