Enemy Basis | ✓

36| opening of the eyes and the heart

An annoying beeping was the first thing I heard, the monotonous shrill sound repeated over and over again as I tried to make sense of what it was but couldn't.

Nothing felt right.

There was tingling pain in my throat and a feeling of hollowness in my stomach. My body didn't feel like it was mine as I struggled to fight the dizziness everywhere.

My vision was still dowsed in black but there was a new level of awareness and vision.

After several moments of just breathing, trying to adjust to the new feelings and the discomfort, I opened my eyes in what felt like the first time forever.

The patterned, sterile white tiles on the ceiling repeated in theme with the beeping that was continuous and nerving. The bright lights illuminated the white of the room heavily contrasting against the black prior and my eyes nearly watered in pain.

My mind still was foggy, the bleariness numbing but painful as I continued to battle it in an attempt to understand, to get my head on par with the actuality.

The beeping noise.

The white walls.

The smell of disinfectant to hide the decay.

A hospital.

And when I realised the last, the events of the night came back to me full force, knocking any semblance of the blankness within as heightened emotions overcame everything.

I had been shot.

I killed Mathew.

Dorran.

My chest heaved up and down in such quick succession and I could hear the sound of the beeping increase in fervour too.

Dorran was gone.

And it was my fault.

My mind became instantly plagued with saddened guilt that had come back to me full force now that I was awake and there was nothing else I could focus on as I became trapped in my head, the reality becoming overwhelming.

It was all too much too soon and if the pain was like this, then I'd rather not have woken up at all.

I inhaled and inhaled, gulped for breath but there wasn't enough air to fill my greedy lungs. I couldn't breathe.

My hands tightened on the sheets and my legs fiddled on the blanket as I tried to find any grip to ease the feeling in my chest but nothing was working.

I knew about panic attacks and had some growing up but that was the thing.

Despite my history of them, there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Your body opposed your head in this situation and you became completely overwhelmed and overcome, left a victim.

And nothing was worse.

The crippling anxiety was horrific and I thought, if no one came in the next couple of seconds, my overworked heart would stop in my chest.

And when, unexpectedly, a hand came down on me in strength and comfort, my heart did stop.

I knew that hand anywhere.

I looked up slowly, afraid that this was just a trick my mind was playing on me and it must've been because there was no way it was possible.

I looked up and up, my chest still heaving.

And there he was with his silver, flashing eyes.

Dorran.