More Than Just A Scraped Knee (A Grey's Anatomy Fanfic)

a ghost and a host

   I wake up in a cold sweat, screaming. The only noise I ever seem to make any more, not because I don't try to speak but because that's all that my vocal cords know how to do. Dad runs in and I want to cry and tell him what happened but there are two-no three things wrong with what I want, One- I haven't cried since mom found me when we were stranded. Two-I haven't talked since that same night. Three-I can't actually remember what happened. It was awful though, I know that much. 

   Another thing, I don't have any idea what anyone is saying. Ever. I'm not deaf, I just can't fully focus. And I don't really have any emotions other than intense fear and nothingness. As many times as I'd wished I could feel nothing, I really need to feel something. I can see how it's hurting everyone, but I don't feel anything from it. 

 My fingers feel like icicles against my dad's. Again, the wordless voices creep into my soul and yet they leave with no recognition that anything of importance had been said. I couldn't say how long it had been since the crash, I can't even tell you how much time has gone by since I woke up from my nightly terror. I just simply feel the weight of my eyes take me under.

 ~

I see my therapist, Dr. Helitt in front of me. She simply plays some music and sits there ready for me to do, say, feel anything. Me and her both. 

'Come on, say anything. A letter, make a noise, do something!' I beg and plead with myself.

I feel so angry but I don't have the energy to throw a punch or anything of the sort. Another hour wasted. 

~

I hear my parents screaming, even though it feels hundreds of thousands of miles away. I know it's about me. But I can't focus. I walk downstairs. I force myself every step. Every step is a million pounds weighing me down. Is it natural to feel like a spirit only inhabiting your body for the sake of needing a host? 

Stop! I want to scream. I want to shout and be over it. Progress enough is that I hear, no, ingest the words they're saying. My parents are both sobbing, they were yelling but not fighting. All still because of me. I stand there by the counter going unnoticed. My voice stays stiff, like swallowing a cotton ball, but I slap the counter. The sound isn't as satisfying as I'd hoped but they stop and turn. 

My mom's eyes light up as a small smile dances across her lips. My dad looks as though he's seen the ghost of his dead daughter re-inhabit her body. Well, that's simply what he had seen. 

"Are you-, Can you-, Amity-" I nod and feel a smile paint my face, almost painful but too sweet to hurt.

My parents pull me in and for a second a curtain of peace and half true wishes falls over us. If only I could hear my voice, that'd be like icing on the cake. But this is like a cupcake without the frosting. So, I've got a muffin. But on the bright side, I like muffins.