We Loved

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LEAH

I WISH it was just a fragment of my imagination, a creation that went wrong, but it shows on everyone's face. Their hurried steps in and out, hushed voices, their steady eyes lost in thought.

We have been attacked.

It's not over yet.

Holding the bars by the bed, I push myself up and land my head on my hands. The room has been twirling around me, round and round as my mind buzzed with the same questions over and over again.

The gunfires were low, but I could hear them. David mentioned something about a silencer. The movies made it so quiet, but it wasn't. It was enough to turn me into a shaking mess. I heard it over and over and then there was the banging and slamming. By the time I found the will to limp to the door, the corridor had already been empty. I scoff at how I sat by the door gazing at the empty hall, convincing myself that there was no question I was safe, that I'd imagined it, that I was just paranoid. But I was wrong.

I would have been dead had my leg been better.

“He’s very brave,” the nurse says for what seems like the hundredth time. “He fought with no second thought! Not a bruise on his gorgeous face! You're such a lucky woman, Doctor Wilfred.” 

I nod, obliged to. The reference as ‘Doctor Wilfred’ almost making me cringe. I'm not yet used to being called ‘Mrs. Wilfred’ or ‘Doctor’, much less ‘Doctor Wilfred’. The nurse smiles before turning and leaving the room.

And again, the talk about how brave he was. It makes me wonder how many nurses get to watch the CCTV footage. Or perhaps how quick their words of gossip fly.

It also makes me doubt the efficiency of these nurses, though their claiming that he wasn't injured, I am almost certain I caught red staining the back of his collar and a swell breaking the symmetry of his lips with a red accentuating it.

As if the gunshots hit me and spread venom through my veins, my body has been shaking nonstop since I've heard them. My hands snake around it in a futile attempt to hold it in place. Managing to drink water through my hitching breaths, my eyes dart around the room.

Looking for a threat.

Looking for a place to settle down. The trees outside the window, the patterns on the wall, the golden door knob, but my attempts to calm down all go in vain.

I sigh letting my head rest onto my hands again. Fighting the urge to go back to sleep, not wanting to get back between the ropes on the chair in the darkness of my eyelids, I scoot to the edge, readying myself to take the pain in my leg once I stand.

“I cannot get over how bold they are.” The door opens introducing David. “It worries me. They aren't afraid of us, that's big.” David and Noah enter, flopping onto the couch. Noah’s eyes sneak a glance at me before returning back to David.

“I’m not afraid of you either. Nothing much to fear.” Noah lays back saying in a matter of fact. David purses his lips and nods.

“What happened to the guard?” I ask trying to keep my voice steady and hold my hands in place.

David massages his temples leaning his elbows on his knees. “He’s a couple of rooms from here. Got knocked out, an ugly hit on the head, fortunately not severe.”

 “According to the cameras, the bastard was watching for a good amount of time. When I left the room, he walked in and knocked the guard down before he could react. He was waiting for me to leave, but how did he expect me to leave the room at dawn?”