This is the first word I hear as I slowly awaken from my long, deep sleep.
… and suddenly my quiet drifting world descends into a delirium of the fussing, fretting and fearful.
“Oh my god! She’s awake … look!”
The room floods with hysteria.
“Please stop!” I scream, but no words come out. My consciousness cloaked in a thick delirium. “Please stop!!!!! My head hurts …”
This is no happy reunion. I don’t want to see any of them. I want my life back, but not like this. Not with these mindless fools who put me here in the first place.
I’m awake now, but not just in the way they see.
Breathe, Amy, breathe away this claustrophobic panic and descent into hell.
“She’s not looking very good, is she?” Mother whines with the lilt of chronic disappointment I can recall all too well. “When can she come home then? I need her for …”
A kindly voice of authority intervenes.
“She’s not going anywhere for quite a while yet, Mrs. Boxwood. Why don’t you go get yourself a cup of coffee?”
Yes, mother, go! Go far away! Leave me alone!
I close my eyes. Perhaps if I can’t see her, and the swarm of bottom feeders hovering about her, they won’t be there.
“What’s happening? Why has she closed her eyes?” Every word out of my mother’s mouth a cloaked reprimand.
Go away already!
The kind voice, once again.
“Perhaps it’s best if you go home. Amy is still tired and needs her rest.”
“But she’s been sleeping for three months! Someone needs to tell her about Boo,” says my moronic best friend, Miranda. Somehow what I did not see before is so clear to me now. She’s a gossiping, energy-sucking vampire disguised as a goody two-shoes. And what of Boo, my beautiful horse who, I realize now, I so horribly abused? All I want to do is put my arms around his graceful neck and tell him how sorry I am for everything.
Is something wrong with my horse?
I’m feeling suffocated now. Panic setting in. I’d rather die than deal with these people now.
The voice of reason to my rescue as the oblivious still don’t get it.
“Look, everyone, I think it’s best if you all leave. Amy is still very weak and too much excitement will drain her of whatever precious energy she has. Now, go home, get some rest and come back tomorrow when you’re more relaxed. Amy needs quiet.”
“But it’s a miracle she’s alive. I want to be with her! I need her!”
My needy, idiot boyfriend, Danny. It’s an act, of course. I’ve known he’s been having an affair for a long time, even before this happened. I hung in because I thought I could change him, but it was killing me inside. Thankfully, I’m not dead. But I wish he was.
I’m rescued once again.
“No, everyone must leave now. I insist. Any news must wait. Please … you can see her again tomorrow. But call first.”
The gentle voice trails off as the small gaggle of misfits finally makes its noisy exit. No one even whispers goodbye to me. Just … oh god … the needy needing the needy arguing where they’ll go for supper.
The kind voice speaks from above.
“You can open your eyes, love, they’re gone now.”
She’s an angel in uniform. Her aura radiates a softness with which I am so unfamiliar tears spring into my eyes.
“There, there, dear. We’ll sort it out. You’ll see.” With a soft cloth the angel dabs away the salty streams running into my ears.
“Why did I have to wake up?” Words thought, but unspoken. Still, the angelic one reads my mind.
“Because it’s time you woke up, dear.” She smiles reassurance. “Time to face your truth.”
I sigh a deep, quivering sigh.
Talk about a catastrophe.
My response to this weeks free writing challenge from Kellie Elmore.
You have a story in you. Everyone does. And I challenge you to take the first step toward telling it. The prompt this week can only come from you. That idea you once had. Or maybe it’s that idea you just had. That story that hasn’t been told that you want to hear, it needs you to bring it to life. And it all begins with one step. That first opening line on that first page of that first chapter. What does it say? That is your prompt.
I actually started writing this story some years ago. This is a fresh start based on themes already imagined. I see it as a kind of prologue before the telling of the story that got Amy into the hospital in the first place. Perhaps this will launch me into a re-write of the 40,000 or so words already penned? Who knows.
Still, I have a murder mystery to finish first. 😉
Thanks for visiting …
©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2014