Black
Lights. Noises. People. Everything hurts. My chest...it's killing me. My throat is dry and i try to speak. Nothing comes out. I try to yell, my lips crack. I try to ask where i am, what happen. I can hardly think. The lights above me are so bright and bluring. Moving fast and hitting bumbs that burn my chest as if it's being ripped open. I can hear sirens and people talking to me but i can't tell what they are saying. My hand is being held by someone else's. My heart stops...and everything goes black.
I wake up in a white room so bright it's making my head throb. I try to speak and this time something comes out.
"Hello?" i hear myself say quietly.
someone clears their throat "hey, how you feelin'", they say.
"my head...and my chest...they hurt" i say
"i'll go get the doctor" the voice says
i try to sit up and look around, try to see who it is that is talking to me. but i can't, i don't have the strength. i begin to sit up but slide back down. i try to remember what happened but all i can remember is walking down a dark street...some guys by an old house...
"Hey Miss Mercado, how ya feeling?" says a man in a white coat and blue scrubs. the doctor, i presume.
"what happened?" i asked
"you were shot Miss Mercado...twice. once on the side of your head and once in the chest. you've been in a coma for three days. you barely made it through surgery. you are expected to make a full recovery, you got very lucky. the bullet just skimmed your skull and the other barley missed your heart. you need to stay her for a week or so, until we can get you back on your feet." he said
"okay...i guess..." i said. the doctor helped me sit up and there was a boy sitting in the corner in the chair. he looked tired and worn out. we made eye contact and just stared at eachother for what seemed like eternity.
"hey, you okay?" he asked
i just stared at him blankly. who was this guy? i looked up at the doctor, "who is..." my voice trailed off.
"what does she mean, who is he?" the guy asked, fully awake now. he looked a bit panicked.
"she..may have lost some of her short term memory. it could just be shock but it will return. Give her a few days and her memory will return. you have to help her as much as possible" said the doctor. "this is Cru, you live with him"
"no..i don't have a home.. i haven't had a home for years...." i said, my voice trailing off again.
"you've only lived with me a couple of days" said Cru.
"Maybe you both should get some rest and start this conversation in the morning. you are going to have a lot to discuss and a lot to get used to" said the doctor
"okay" i said and that was it. i fell asleep shortly after that.
i dreamed of things i thought i'd never seen. of a loft, a beautiful loft, a room, a bathroom, a view of the whole city. i woke up and looked around. Cru was lying on a hospital bed next to me, snoring softly. I decided i'd call the nurse to get some breakfast. i wonder what time it is. a nice nurse dressed in puppy dog scrubs came back shortly with a pan of food. the food didn't look very appetizing. it was some type of eggs that didn't look much like eggs anymore, some orange juice with too much pulp, an apple that looked like it'd been to hell and back, some way too burnt toast and jello. who has jello for breakfast? i was glad to eat though and i guess i was happy because i used to not even know where my next meal would be coming from. a dumpster? Cru woke up right after i was done eating and we sat and talked for hours. he left periodically to make calls to whoever it was he made calls to but he seemed to always be next to me. days had passed and Cru stayed with me for all of them. we talked of everything and nothing. we didn't talk much about how we know eachother or why or how i came to be living with him. when i approached the topic he pulled away and brought up something else.
one day i was laying on my starchy white bed in the hospital and it hit me. it was like a sudden mirgrain and everything was flashing through my mind. i remember everything. i remembered everything from the morning i woke up in a strangers loft to the moment i knew i was going to get shot. Cru is walking through the door.
"hey, brought you some lunch. how you feelin'?" Cru said,
"i'm so sorry...i remember everything...i'm so sorry" i said and just started crying. i don't even know why i was crying, i just was. Cru came over and wrapped his arms around me
"hey, hey... it's okay.. shhh... it's going to be okay now, i'm here"
"they came out of no where... and i knew i could be dead in a few minutes...they were coming right for me and all i could think of...was to call you...and you found me."
"of course i found you, i like you Callie." said Cru.
"you barely know me Cru"
"i know...but that can change. i want that to change.''
"...me too" i said shaky.
"let's get some rest, you get to come home tomorrow"
home. i get to go home. that was something i hadn't heard in a long time. i started thinking and got nervous. nothing happens this way. for years, I convinced myself that I got what I deserved. I didn't know why but I was thoroughly convinced that the life I was given must have been a consequence for something I did. I tried for years and years to think of all the things I've done in my life. was it because I didn't open the door for that old man? was it because I didn't pay that one man with the scary gun the money he said mommy owes him? it just doesn't make sense. how can one go from nothing to everything literally, over night? the chances of what is happening being real are slim. people like me don't get to live like people like Cru. it just doesn't happen. so what am I supposed to do? do I leave this world behind, the world I've never known but am getting the chance to meet? or do I go on in this new world and enjoy it? I could just vanish, leave this hospital before anyone would know I'm gone. then I won't take the chance of hurting Cru or myself. getting attached to things that are never for certain has always proved me wrong. every time I've gotten close to something or someone they've abandon me. ecspecially when I needed them the most. Cru is better off without me and besides, I've been on my own for years. I can handle a few more. maybe one day I'll be a writer, like I've always planned. I throw my legs over the side of the gurney and pull the IV out of my arm. the buzzer starts to sound so I pick up my clothes and my backpack and run out the door. I sneak down the cold, empty hall. I hear voices behind me so I speed up. my non-slip socks screeching against the germ filled tile. my breathing was getting heavier and it was getting harder to breathe. the stitches in my chest seemed to barley hold the hole shut. I needed to rest, soon. a neon green sign glowed "exit". I took went out the door and climbed up the stairs. on the 7th floor I entered the hall, slowly. I peered around the corner, making sure no one was around. the last thing I wanted to do was explain myself. I snuck into the bathroom and locked the door. as I looked around, everything seemed so...artificial. so fake. there was a toilet, pearly white. and a sink that seemed like it had never been used. the door, the walls, the floor, all white. all the shadeless white seemed to be endless. everything was getting closer, farther. closer, farther. I slid down against the wall and curled up into the corner. I wrapped my arms around my knees and let the world close in around me. I sunk into a deep sleep. my dreams were neither good nor bad. they were full of complete emptiness. a bottomless pit of nothing. much like what I felt inside. it was how I picture my heart to look like. when I wake it is hard to stand. I know I need to go though, to get out before someone notices. I don't even know what time it is or how long I slept. as I turn I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look like a sad girl out of a horror movie. its sad because that is how I feel. when I look in the mirror, its like I'm not seeing me. I'm seeing a random girl with a patch of hair shorter than the rest. where the bullet skinned her head. a long white hospital gown slipping off her skinny shoulder. I need to stop. I will not feel sorry for myself any more. I'm just going to move on. unsteady and fast I rush to put on my clothes. I had Cru bring me a T-shirt and jeans we bought. I fold the gown and lay it in the corner. I slip out into the hallway unnoticed. as a commoner. a doctor in light blue scrubs slips out of a room with a "Supplies Staff Only" on it. I slip in as he walks away. I know stealing is wrong but I need a few things before I leave. I grab two starchy but clean blankets, an inhaler, some medicine, a few waters and some snacks.
As I walk down all of the winding hallways into the lobby, I try to go unnoticed. a few staff members look at me differently but keep walking. maybe it is the guiltiness getting the best of me or maybe I look suspicious. either way, I need to move faster. and I need to plan, be strategic. I've never planned before, I've just took it day-by-day and night-by-night. maybe this time, maybe this time things will be different, I tell myself. everyone says hope is a good thing. that a little hope can take you a long way. those people are wrong. one thing I've learned is that hope hurts. the feeling of hope is like a seed in your soul. believing in it is like the sun. others faith in that seed is like water. your hope flourishes and you fully believe one day, that seed will be a flower and will grow so big that you can just climb right up it. out of the cloud bank and into the stars. in reality, life takes place. life comes and takes a saw to the stalk of the hope plant you've been so furiously trying to grow. it saws it away, inch by inch. until finally, you can no longer take it anymore. you can't take being let down time after time. being hurt day after say. the plant of hope comes crashing down. over time, it decays and all you're left with is dirt. a reminder of what might of been but never was.
I slip out through the sliding glass doors and onto the streets. I blend in with the afternoon crowd and I walk. my life lays at the mercy of what is lurking around every corner. the mercy of the unknown.