Sapphire Eyes ~ 10 Chapter Challenge

Six Years Before The Letter

Then the white sphere spills over everything.

Skip Out ~ Mirna

Beep . . . Beep . . . What is this? Pinching my finger. Sticking to my arm. Bruised all over, like a piece of rotting fruit. Where am I? Why does everything hurt, like a bad dream, an old memory? What's going on?

". . . think she's waking up."

Who's there? I force my eyes open. White everywhere. Too bright. I cover my eyes—something pulls at my finger. I jam my thumb up against it, wedge my nail underneath, and slide it off.

BEEEEEEEEEEP!

I feel bodies around me. Someone grabs my arm, jerks my hand up, and pinches my finger. Ouch. The room goes quiet again. Beep . . . Beep . . .

"There, there. You're okay."

I blink to clear my eyes. There's a lady standing over me. Dark hair, sandy skin, hard eyes. Never seen her before. Where am I?!

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

She grabs my arm again, but her touch is softer, almost soothing. "I'm Helen from Social Services. You're in the hospital, Mirna. You had a seizure."

Seizure? What does that mean? Hospital? Am I sick? I hurt really bad. What happened to me? "What—" I swallow and take a breath. "Angela?"

The lady's face goes serious. She sits on the edge of my bed and pats my hand. "They're not here."

"Not—what?"

"I'm sorry." She won't look at me. "They . . . left."

"Left? Why?" I turn my face away. My eyes find the monitor beside the bed, with its green flashing lights and little black buttons. Beeping away at me.

"Oh Mirna . . . They're bringing you your things . . ."

This lady is from Social Services. Oh, no. No, this can't be what I think it is. Please tell me they aren't skipping out on me. After a whole year. And I thought they might even want to adopt me. Who was I kidding? If they were going to, they would have already.

"We talked and we feel like it would be best for you if we found you a new placement that can give you the support you need." The lady stares at me, frowning, feeling sorry for me.

I fix my eyes on the ceiling. What's best for me. Like they know. Why do they get to decide? I don't want a new placement! How could they do this to me?

My face is wet. My whole body feels glued to the bed, too drained to move. Holy cow, I'm tired. I blink the tears out of my eyes, and suddenly I don't want to sleep. When I close my eyes, I see the white sphere, almost like it got burned into the back of my eyelids.

Onset ~ Jim

A thick fog covers me and tries to pull me down into sleep. But I fight it. I want to wake up. I shouldn't be sleeping. Then I try to remember what I was just doing, and I can't, but I know somehow that I shouldn't have been sleeping. I need to wake up.

Vaguely, I'm aware of someone talking to me. I open my eyes and squint into the bright light. Before my eyes can adjust, I give up and close them again. I want to ask where I am or what happened, but all I can do is groan as my head throbs.

That same person keeps talking. It strikes me that her voice is lovely and calming. I want to know who she is, where I am, what's happening to me. I open my eyes again.

The world shifts position, and I panic like a deer in headlights. Then the world dips and sways, and sirens wail, drowning out the woman's voice.

". . . no injuries," she's saying.

I'm shocked that I can suddenly understand her. "What happened to me?"

"Are you awake?" she asks with a smile, leaning down to give me a better view of her beautiful face. "You've been in a fender bender, Mr. Horton. We're taking you to Saint Mary's."

I groan again. Everything hurts. "Did I hurt anyone?"

The lady, she must be an emergency medical technician, she smiles softly. "Just your car."

"My car?" I ask, afraid that I can't remember getting up this morning, let alone getting in the car and driving anywhere. "Why don't I remember?"

"Witnesses at the scene described you having a seizure. Do you have epilepsy, Mr. Horton?"

Epilepsy? Seizures? "No, I . . ." My voice trails off. This is unreal. I have no memory of what happened to me, but I hurt enough to believe that I was in a car accident. I should feel fortunate to be alive, but all I feel is petrified.

The lady puts her hand on my shoulder. "Don't you worry. We'll get everything figured out. The important thing is that you're alive and uninjured. You're very lucky, considering you were driving on the Bay Bridge. It sounds like the gridlock had you almost completely stopped, so you barely bumped the fender of the vehicle in front of you."

I let out a grunt of recollection. I was crossing the bridge into San Fran for a job interview. It looks like I won't be getting the gig now. I try to reach for the lady's hand, to say thank you for helping me, but my arms are being held down against the gurney. "Thank you for your help," I say simply.

"Of course," she replies with another of her heavenly smiles. "You're very welcome. Now, can you squeeze my hand?" Her soft warm hand reaches to hold mine.

I squeeze back softly.

"Good. How old are you?"

I have to think about that one. "Twenty-six?"

"Are you sure?" she asks with a chuckle.

"Positive."

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Jim Horton," I say clearly, feeling more and more coherent with each question. "But you already knew that," I add.

"I might have snooped in your wallet. Guilty as charged." She smiles. "You don't have medical alert jewelry or a card in your wallet, so even though you didn't sustain any injuries, we have to take you in."

"You said I had a seizure?" I ask.

She nods.

"Did you actually see anything?"

"It was over by the time we arrived, but it was most likely a seizure, given your state when we arrived. You exhibited many of the classic postictal symptoms. Sorry, I wish I had better answers for you."

I try to wave my hand, but I'm still strapped down. "Here's an easy question for you then: What's your name?" I ask with a bashful grin.

"I'm Deb," she says with a rosy smile.

~*~

1,795 Words