Bodyguard [narry]

Chapter 13

[unedited]

[Harry]

I don't feel any pain but a tremendous fatigue, as I haven't slept during one week. My heads is heavy. My mind isn't clear. It races and throbs like the most terrible kind of fever and I'm unaware of thinking properly.

Is this the after life?

Is this the death?

It can't be. Death isn't supposed be the end? As being no longer aware of everything? This is not the end. Air is coming into my lungs. My heart is beating. Slowly but it beats. I feel it.

There is a change in the murk before my eyes. A lightness. Not strong. Just a poor lightness which comes through the line of my eyes.

I wish I could open my eyes. But it takes too much energy. So I let them close.

The world is so silent. There is a barrier between me and the rest of the world, and I think that maybe the world has never wanted me and now it's an opportunity to get rid of me.

But maybe not. My thoughts are being clearer. I'm passably conscious, not asleep but not awake either. As if disconnected from everything, unable to move, or speak, able to register and... Exist.

It's cold. I'm cold. I'm tired.

I wait. I wait for something to happen. Death or life. I don't care. I just want something to happen.

An amount of time passes. A second, a minute, maybe an hour, there is no way I can know. But it's horrible. It's worse than being ill. I don't know what I have but I want it to go away.

My thoughts center on where I am. My eyes are still close but I'm sure that I'm pressed against something solid. Describe it is impossible right now, but it isn't uncomfortable. It's not comfy either.

I hover around my thoughts for and indeterminate time, letting me connect to my own body, to my state...

The word drug suddenly flash deep inside me. I don't know how but it comes. My heart begins to beat faster and this sudden rush gives me energy to open my eyes.

This isn't a dream. I'm not dead. But I'm not safe either. I look around searching for only a little thing I might know or recognize. Nothing.

I'm in a house. I'm in a house I don't know. I'm in a stranger house. On the floor. On a cold floor.

I can barely see in which room I am because the tiny lamp that lights me is ridiculous. It illuminates only a meter away.

There is only one thing I can do. Listen. I listen. But I can't hear anything. I wait for a moment. And for another moment. My eyelids are heavy and force to close my eyes again. I can't listen and observe at the same time. I'm too weak for that.

I concentrate one the listening. There is only my own breathing.

I'm tired now. I'm so tired.

The light is no more here. The dark takes the place completely, me with it.

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I'm moving. But I don't know how. Air is caressing my skin and gives me goosebumps. I hear steps, heavy steps.

I'm not walking...

The noises of the steps on the floor don't fade. It's the same intensity each time. Someone is carrying me. Now that I realize this, it seems obvious. I feel the two arms that are supporting my weight. One under my knees, the other in the middle of my back.

Where are we going?

Where am I?

What is going on?