Pinned but Fluttering

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Of course, all things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just taking my turn in her sandbox....

The darkness had been slowly receding for a while, but I wasn't sure for how long. Time had become completely immaterial to me...blending and morphing around the echo of voices which murmured low at times or uncomfortably loud at others, depending on how clear my mind was at the time.

Life wasn't very comfortable right now. I felt my lungs expanding and contracting, but I knew somehow that I wasn't causing it. The steady ache in my lower chest remained; I knew that there was a reason for this pain, but I couldn't remember what was making the pain radiate outward.

My throat hurt; it was terribly dry, and it burned. So badly. It was actually my most constant source of pain. I hated it.

My side also ached, a pulling sensation raking through me at times.

And my head hurt. So badly.

Ugh....

The one thing I had gathered was where I was.

In a hospital.

Forks Hospital.

And Carlisle was taking care of me.

His clear, melodious voice was my lifeline, tethering me in the painful, red reality and keeping me from slipping into the black darkness that attempted to swallow me at every turn.

I had no will to remain in painful reality...except for the sheer beauty of Carlisle's voice. His love and concern was like nothing I had experienced since my mother's death.

And he had been there, too, caring for us all, comforting and amusing me.

He made me feel special, even as a small child.

Now I clung to his voice mentally, pushing away the darkness for as long as I could each time until I eventually succumbed into the painless blackness.

I heard him praying over me, over and over, and telling me to fight...to fight hard.

And I was fighting, just as Carlisle told me to. As hard as I could.

I was not going to let the darkness win.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

I emerged from the darkness slowly, as usual. Gradually I became aware of Carlisle's gentle voice murmuring quietly.

Perhaps he was praying again? He did that a lot during my time here. And, oddly, I didn't mind. I sensed the earnestness behind his prayers, the force of his supplications, as if he were begging God to return me safely from the darkness.

Despite the pain that invariably exhausted me each time I endured the redness of reality, Carlisle made me want to return to my life.

He made me strong.

But today was different.

I felt different.

I felt more determined to return to reality. And stay there. Despite the pain and agony that I would be forced to face. And not just physical pain, but emotional pain, too.

The pain of what he had done. What he had taken from me.

But I would be strong, and I would face the reality, the pain.