Isolated

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Maybe it was time to start believing my life with Clare was finally catching up to me and making me as crazy as she claimed I was.  Because surely, this wasn't happening.  I had to be crazy, dreaming, or dead.  It was one of those because it couldn't be reality.  It was impossible.  How could anybody that knows my story expect me to accept that this was actually happening?  It had to be one of my hopeless fantasies.  It was one of those constant day dreams that I would somehow run into him again.  It had to be.  Because not only seeing him again was a pure shock.  How it happened was nearly just as unbelievable. 

There was a certain level of drama and craziness that people, if they reached that point, might not be able to take much more of.  I felt I had already surpassed that before this event.  But this... I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up in a mental hospital.  Too many shocks; too much pain and hurt.  Too many chances for me to be dead.  And yet... the impossible happened.  How the hell could he have found me?  Or even more strange and startling was how the hell could we run into each other randomly?  Did he chase me this whole time?  Did he care?  Was this just a run in?  Did he despise me and hate me?  The biggest question was still how the hell was this real?

My heart was shattered, over and over and over throughout my life.  And being with Luke for the little time that I was brought me back to life.  He made me a better person.  He gave me love and for the first and only time in my life, I gave him love.  I loved him more than I could express.  And when I left, I felt I broke my own heart and I broke his twice as hard.  And to now come to this.... It would be much worse than heart ache I felt like.  Because I had no idea how fate could pull such a thing off.  I didn't know how to feel.  Especially when I woke up from the haze I drowned in after seeing him, full on and solid in front of me. As if being exposed to a sight you only would see behind finger printed glass.  Clear, here, in reach.  How was I suppose to feel? 

To be fair though, my first thoughts were not that far yet.  Not about 'how should I accept this' or 'how did this happen?'  Or 'how should I feel?'  Rather, they consisted of such thoughts as... well... where was I?

When consciousness seeped back into my reality and my body, it triggered what usually happens whenever you usually wake up in a strange place.  That split second of wonder, of wondering where you were until your memory sets in.  It's what happened when I felt thoughts start to filter through my mind as well as the combination of eventually opening my eyes.  Blinking hard the moment I woke, I winced instantly and shut my eyes with a sigh again.  A dim light was staring at me from above where it was on a wooden ceiling.  But not dim to what my fragile eyes were use to yet after waking up.  My eyes moved to little slits and I took in the hanging light that looked familiar but I couldn't put my finger on where I was.  The wooden planked ceiling didn't help in the second spent wondering either.  Where was I?  Where?  My thoughts felt drowsy like my body.  However, that feeling did not last long at all.  Because that oblivion can only last before you remember exactly what happened. 

Luke. Luke happened.  And... I mean, after that I was gone.  I sunk into black.  I remember seeing him from where I stood at the end of his booth.  Seeing him and being so shocked.  Seeing him and knowing he was just as shocked, just as caught off guard when he looked up at saw me as his waitress.  Good lord.... Did that actually happened?  Well if it didn't, and I didn't see him and didn't pass out, how was I here now?  Here... in the back storage room of Seymour's?  I recognized it as I stared up at the ceiling for a moment, not having the energy to move at first.  But my thoughts were quickly confirmed. 

I managed a light moan of slight soreness when I moved.  Even if just barely.  I was laying on a hard surface I could feel.  And I speculated I had to be laying on the rows of empty crates that are usually set back here in the middle of the room after use. I found out I was right when I moved my head just barely to the right, glancing over to the side of the room that confirmed it was the storage room.  My eyes found the old and worn window, the paint on the window panes chipped and the actual glass of the windows looked full of mist.  The wood-paneled walls held hanging pictures of wildlife to match the theme of the restaurant.  And next to a big picture of a deer, was a door.  An exit to outside and in the back.