A faint glow shifts past my eyelids but I ignore it. Sleep is too beautiful and I am far too comfortable to bother with the waking world at this moment. I allow my body to sink back into the comfort below me, heaviness descending upon me the way a waterfall might descend upon a person's shoulders as they stand beneath its brutal force. The only difference being that rather than wet and cold, this is warmth and comfort and peace. I want to bottle up this sensation and drink it. I want to feel it spread inside my veins and nourish my hungry soul.
But the light keeps illuminating behind my lids, a swirl of irritation gathering in my chest at the disturbance. Leave me alone! I wanted everything to leave me alone. I'm so tired. So achingly tired, but even in sleep, I can't rest.
Finally giving up, I lift my weighted eyelids and peer out into my room—only, I'm not in my room. I pull myself into a seated position, my eyes desperately drinking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The warm comfort that had swallowed me up just moments ago is nothing but harsh concrete, and the light dancing obnoxiously around my vision is the blazing gaze of the sun.
I shift into a seated position, taking in the scene around me with horror. My clothes are tattered and bloodied, though I seem to be okay. The site of my leg just moments before I'd blacked out returns to me and I realize I must have mistaken the rubble embedded in my flesh as bone because it doesn't appear that anything is broken. I inspect the scratches tearing up my leg, relieved to find that I'm not nearly as battered as I'd first thought.
I spot my motorcycle to my left, now just a chunk of scrap metal laying dead just meters from my location, and there's a monster of a trunk towering over me on its side mere feet from destroying every bone in my body.
Memories flood through my system, sending spasms through my limbs. With a quick, painful jerk of my body, I shift to glance behind me. The boy! Where was the boy?
My eyes land on his crumpled frame instantaneously. He isn't moving, and from where I sit, I can't make out if he's breathing either. Groans and hisses are pulled from my lips as I grunt my way into standing and begin the excruciating journey across the street to the motionless boy.
Everything within me is in agony as I hobble my way through the street, but with each step I take, the pain seems to recede as if draining from my body. Before I know it, I'm running. It seems to take forever, but I finally reach him and throw myself down beside him. He's so small, so innocent, and I cringe at the possibilities of what's happened. I feel sick.
Reaching down, I pull the boy into my lap—despite the distant warning bells blaring in my head that he shouldn't be moved. He's like a limp noodle, and the chill of his flesh has hope dwindling away. I push my fingers to the side of his neck, and complete stillness settles over the entire world in that moment as I wait. I close my eyes, training all my scenes on the feel of his pulse.
I can almost hear the click of a clock as it indicates the end of time. The end of this boy's time... and mine... because I most certainly won't want to live after being the cause of his death.
My eyes are still shut, and as the seconds pass, my grip loosens. I'm just about to slide my fingers away from his throat when I feel it.
Thump...
...
...
...
Thump-thump...
An odd gurgle of ecstasy escapes my throat as I pull the boy towards me, cradling his head in my hands.
"Wake up," I cry, tapping his cheek with my fingers. "Please, wake up."
I continue to jostle him, hoping to stir him from the dark grip of death. I'm losing hope once again when suddenly his eyes fly open, instantly settling on me. He watches me for a moment, his face emotionless. I start to speak, to ask him how he's feeling, but he pushes me away and drags himself off the ground before I can stop him.
He takes an unstable step away from me, dazed, and I can do nothing but watch. I watch him spin in a slow circle as his innocent mind takes in the destruction around him. He's confused and scared. I see that on his face when he turns to glance at me again. One leg seems to drag behind him, but it appears his endorphins are still strong enough that he feels no pain. I look down at my own battered body and come to the same conclusion about myself. There's no doubt that once it wears off, the both of us will be in misery.
I glance back up at the boy and find his lips widening into a smile as he stares at me. I wonder where his sudden joy came from, but when I hear him let out a relieved sigh it becomes clear. He's alive. He's smiling because he's alive.
I watch his lips begin to move and I know he's about to say something, but he's interrupted when a voice calls out to me.
"Jamie!"
I turn, watching as a fiery red-headed woman jogs her way down the sidewalk and then cuts across the road towards me.
"Jamie!" she hollers, closing the distance between us. "Come on!"
I stand still, frozen as she slows from her jog to a tired walk. I'm confused for so many reasons. One: I can't figure out where she wants me to go, and two: I haven't the faintest idea who this woman is.
For a moment, I wonder if she's the boy's mother and she happened to witness the entire accident. Is she furious at me for nearly killing her boy? That's possible, but it doesn't explain how she knows who I am.
She's only feet away now, but as she nears, she doesn't come to a stop. Instead, her steps just continue towards me until her body comes flush with mine. I want to step away but somehow I'm stuck, unable to put any space between us. And then, before I have a moment to really process her actions, she leans in and seals my lips with her own.
It's not a sexy kiss. It's a desperate, almost angry kiss, one that makes me want to run in fear. But I can't. I can't escape her grasp because she's holding my face between her hands in a way that's nearly painful. Jerking away could get my face clawed to shreds.
"Jamie!" she screams again, breaking away from the kiss and staring into my eyes, her gaze sending alarming shivers up my spine. Her voice is on the verge of panic, but she's calm as she searches my face. She's looking for something, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what. Her gaze is penetrating and anxious, but she doesn't speak. The mystery behind her behavior remains even as she screams my name again.
And then she punches me in the chest. I stumble back for a moment, stunned, but she follows my movements, her fists beating at my chest repetitively, angrily. I try to grab at her wrists, but her smooth skin just slips through my fingers. My strength must have drained away with my ability to feel pain.
Until now... because suddenly I'm feeling everything.
Tears stream down my cheeks as the woman finally finds my lips again, her breath mingling with mine as her lungs release life into my body. I savor the feel of peace for the brief moment that it lasts, and then once again, she breaks the kiss. Her fingers slide around my throat for a moment, and then she's crushing me beneath her fists once more. Over and over and over, until the breath is completely knocked from my body.
That's when my world cracks apart, and reality falls like acid rain.
Screams erupt from my raw throat, piercing the air with my angry pleas for mercy. A fever has ignited inside my veins, spreading to my bones. I swear I have hornets swarming my bloodstream, radiating their acidic fire into each cell until they can't contain the venom. My cells are exploding, combusting into flames as they lick my flesh from the inside.
"Get out!" I wail, my vision blurred by the anguish sucking the tranquility from my now restless mind.
"He's conscious," a masculine voice says to my right.
I turn my head, ready to beg for relief from the stranger, but my sight is blurred by the distraction of my own pain. Nothing is making any sense. Images of lights swirl somewhere in the distance, like watching fireworks from under the wavering waters of a swimming pool. They're indistinguishable, as are the faces that seem to be hovering around me—multiple faces, though the gutsy redhead seems to have vanished.
"Jamie," another strange voice calls. "Can you hear me?"
I gurgle into my throat, my mind incapable of stringing together words.
"Squeeze my hand if you can hear me?" the man asks again, and I feel his fingers wrap around my own.
I try. I really try. But for some reason, my brain seems out of sync with my body. It's not listening to any command that I give. Something's been severed. My mind and body are two separate entities and I have no control over either.
"Nothing." I hear disappointment in the man's voice. "Okay, Randy, are you ready?"
I don't hear Randy's response, but suddenly my body is levitating. I feel nothing but a chill breeze drifting over my flaming skin. It's a welcome sensation, one that has my muscles relaxing and my mind drifting to the dark confines of sleep.
"Stay with us, Jamie," the man orders sternly, though his voice is tinged with concern.
A sound rumbles from my throat again, and I can't be sure if I've just agreed to stay awake or if that was my body telling the world to leave me the heck alone.
And then everything disappears. It's as if I don't exist at all. Darkness is all I see. I feel nothing, I see nothing, I sense nothing. My mind itself has vacated me, and I'm just alone in the pit of hell. Confusion would have complete control of me right now, but not even that is present. I'm blissfully unaware of absolutely everything.
Even when reality clicks, fear doesn't find me. It's as if I'm playing hide-and-seek with my own emotions. Panic, worry, dread, despair... none of them are present. I'm just hovering on the brink of a dark abyss that's just waiting for me to slip into its endless palms—and I'm moments away from letting it take my hand in its own and welcome me to my new home.
It's in this moment when one single thought drifts unsteadily through my mind:
I'm going to die.
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Sooo... did this chapter have your mind swirling just a little bit? That was sort of my intention, so I hope it worked. :s lol
If you're still confused, don't worry. Answers are coming!!