Recalling Reality

Chapter 24

My bed is propped up, and the room is darkened because the lights are constantly hurting my eyes. I don't know what time it is, but if I had to guess by the lack of staff coming in and out of the room, I would say it is sometime at night.

My mom is out of town, and Quinn hadn't been in for three days now. It doesn't bother me as I can't talk to them, anyway. Answering with blinking once or twice is beginning to annoy me.

A hand presses down on my leg; a small and gentle hand. My eyes spring open as the pressure is a sensation that I lacked for so many days now.

My heart picks up speed as I roll my head to the side, just enough to see the head of bouncing chocolatey curls on a young girl. Her eyes are puffy and red, but the smile is spread across her face, showing the missing front tooth.

"Hi." Her voice is sweet, innocent, and it causes water to rush forth in my eyes. I blink, but it isn't like she would ever understand what I am trying to say. She would be far too young to know that my only means of communication is blinking to yes and no questions.

"Daddy said you were feeling icky. And I wanted to see if you needed anything before I went to bed." Her laser blue eyes are glassing over, and she withdraws her hand from my leg. Instead of running out of the room, she shuffles closer to me and reaches over my chest to pull the white blanket up, tucking it under my chin. "It is cold in here. Daddy always makes sure he tucks me in on nights like this. And I don't want you to catch amm-nonia."

Taking in a deep breath, I catch the lofting scent of fresh soap and a fruity shampoo. I gaze at the curls, being reminded of mine when I was little like this girl. They were so bouncy and I could never do anything with them, though everyone raved about the curlies, as I always called them. I reach up and twirl one around my finger. The velvety spiral hugs my digit until I release it and let it spring back to its place.

"Everyone loves the curls. Daddy asks me every day if he can shave them because he has a hard time fixing my hair." The smile pans across her face again, and she reaches up and gives one of mine a little tug. "We got the same curlies."

Tears scorch my eyes as I embrace that little girl in my mind. With the ruckus of everything, the fading in and out, this is one I hope will stay after the gush of warmth and the heaviness of my eye lids. She is probably a little girl who is spending the night with a family member. Maybe her mother if Daddy was the one who she always spoke about. Quinn and Mom often dredged on about sleeping in the chairs or in the waiting room each time they were removed from my side. As for this little girl, I hope she is here visiting and not a patient herself.

"Daddy is working, so he thinks I am sleeping already. I just wanted to come in by you." A tear trickles down her cheek, and my heart is beginning to crack apart. I move my hand, and she crawls up onto the bed and snuggles beside me, careful enough not to disturb any of the lines that are running in and out of my body parts. "I really miss this."

I blink to tell her that I appreciate the little time together, but she has no clue as to what I am even trying to say. So, I just tuck my arm around her and let her fall asleep on my chest. Before I know it, the gush of warmth begins to rob me of this serenity.

The lights are bright enough to bleed through my closed eye lids, and the staff is extremely noisy today. My legs are being twisted and turned, pushed and shoved, and bent in every direction they can go. And it is annoyingly painful. Just as my right leg is bending at the knee, I drag it away from the pair of hands that are squeezing the muscle in my thigh and calf.

The room stills to where I hear nothing but the steady beeping of the machines. Forcing my eyes lids to open, I turn my head to see if the little girl is still tucked under my arm, but there is nothing there. Just my arm and the tubes that are stuck in my skin by the needles.

Air rushes from my lungs when I gape at all the new lines that are attached to my hand. There would be no way that little girl could have climbed up beside me with all of this. And the machines were tucked to that side of the bed anyway. They were not there last night when I had that little angelic visitor.

My throat is shredding, and the heat is gathering in my neck. A hand comes down on my left ankle, waking up the prickly sensation that activates through my whole damn leg. It doesn't just stop at the one. It jumps over to the other and wakes it up also. I beg them to make it stop, but no one can hear me. I have to do the blinking for them to understand, when and if they ask me a question.

My mind scatters and butterflies are fluttering around in my brain now. I am trying to tell my legs to move, but I don't know if they are. My arms are the same thing. The more I yell at my brain to work my body, the more my throat is shredding apart and the tingling in my limbs are activating.

I've had my limbs fall asleep on me here and there, and it is sometimes painful when the blood comes rushing back into them too fast. But this ... this is all at once, way too fast, and I am in agonizing pain.

Warmth rushes through the inside of my body, and before I know it, my brain is shut down. I am so tired, I can't even keep my eyes open. I just give in to the soothing peace once again.

"Hannah? Can you hear me?" Doctor Masters is squeezing my hand; each finger, one by one. "Hannah?"

The words are so loud, and there is a strong hammering that is going on inside my head. He is shouting, and I don't know why.

"Hannah, I need you to wake up and look at me."

My eye lids separate, and I see the man bending over me, looking at me. My muscles begin to scream and cry as they are tight and I can't seem to get them to relax. I try to tell him that I am in pain, and he is cocking his brows. Once again, I forget that we have only one way of communicating.

"Are you telling me that you are in pain?" The corners of his lips twitch a little.

I blink. "My muscles are all tight, and it hurts."

"You had a seizure, Hannah. Your muscles are going to be tight for a little bit, but they will loosen up."

"Can you hear me talking?" I ask as the hot waters seethe over my eyes, blurring him a little more than usual.

"You are slurring your words quite a bit, and I have to really listen, but I can hear you talking." A big smile spreads on his face, and he removes his eyes from mine and turns his attention to someone else who is standing in the room.

"Where is the little girl who was in here last night?" I try and sit up, but my body refuses and cries out from the stiffness in my muscles. Instead, I lay back and stare at the white ceiling tiles.

"What was that, Hannah?" He is back looking at me, close to me again. I repeat myself, and he shakes his head. "There was no little girl in here last night. We don't have any on this floor, and there wasn't one in the waiting room last night from what I understand. I was on duty."

"She is little. Brown curls. Cute. Missing front tooth." My heart sinks in my chest, and a thick lump begins to fill my throat. "She was here last night."

"I will ask, but I have not seen one."

He looks away from me again, and I am filled with the warmth once again. Sleep comes instantly, and I am taken away into the serene bliss of comfort.