Untamed Hearts

16- Hurting & Ghost from Mother's Past

XVI. Hurting & Ghosts from Mother’s Past

Song of the Day: - Stronger Than I am by Ronan Parke

* Let it Burn by Usher

Angelo Tallerico

I floated steadily, suspended somewhere in oblivion. There was a cacophony of sounds all around and the air was cool. I got a whiff ethanol and disinfectant in the air mixed with orange blossom air freshener and something lavender. The sounds all morphed together and for a minute I had no idea what was being said. There was a deep, steady voice belonging to a man, a distressed and soft one I recognized immediately as my mother's, the constant beeping must have belonged to monitors.

"Baby," my mother crooned to me, "honey, please open your eyes. Come back to your Mama."

 

I'm here Mama, I wanted to say but I couldn't. I tried to open my eyes but they wouldn't open, trying to wiggle my toes was a failure too. I had a horrifying thought. Coma!

No! No! No!! My mind screamed. I did not want to be in a coma. People fell in comas and never came out. I would rather be dead than be trapped in that hearing - feeling - awake darkness but never being able to see or speak.

"I'll just be outside," the man's voice said gruffly and I heard his footsteps dim as he left.

"Michelangelo," my mother said again and squeezed my hand.

 

Come on, I thought. I cracked one eye and the bright fluorescent blinded me so I snapped it shut, and then tried again allowing my eyes to slowly drift open. My vision blurred slightly and my mother's worried face came into view. A sharp pain knifed through my head and I winced.

"Mama...” I rasped.

She came closer to my face immediately and I could see she had been crying for her face had fresh streaks and her eyes red.

"Oh baby," she sobbed. "You're awake. Oh thank God. You're awake."

"What happened? Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital. You had an asthma attack and you passed out."

It all came back to me now... The restaurant with Taralynn.... learning about Madison and Jasper... against my will a lump formed in my throat.

"How long have I been out?" I asked her.

"Three days."

My eyes bugged. "Three days?"

She nodded mutely. "The doctors said that if we had delayed even a little bit ... well ... I might have lost my little boy." Her mouth twisted and I squeezed her hand feebly.

"Hey Mama," I said softly, "it's ok. I'm ok."