"Sir? Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me."
Erik opened his eyes to blinding fluorescent lights overhead that moved past, one after the other. They were moving down a hallway, too fast for him to even register where he was. A nurse to his left squeezed his hand gently.
"Sir? Are you with us?"
He parted his lips but his mouth felt thick and his tongue heavy. A horrible rust scent hit his nose and he vaguely realized his mouth was full of blood. It dribbled down his lip and he slowly raised his free hand to wipe it away, but the hand barely felt as though it even belonged to him, stained red, and purpling in places.
A hospital. He was in a hospital. His mind couldn't even ask the question; why was he there?
He could almost recall the sound of squealing tires, metal grinding against metal. Someone screamed. Was it him?
The gurney pushed through double doors and came to a stop with a faint squeak as the brakes were engaged. He felt the sharp sting of a needle in the back of his hand, could see an IV bag out of the corner of his eye. People were talking but he couldn't even be sure what language they were speaking in. It was all just noise, even the lights felt loud.
A man leaned over him, securing an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose while offering Erik a reassuring smile. "Just count backwards from ten for me." Erik had only just understood the words when his eyelids drooped, suddenly too heavy to keep open, and he heard what sounded like bells in the distance.
Darkness, neverending, all encompassing, empty. He'd never felt so alone, so isolated. Despite the nothingness that surrounded him, his feet were on solid ground. He moved forward.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" His voice echoed through the vast expanse of emptiness.
A voice answered. "Who's there?"
Erik looked around but saw only darkness. "Where are you?"
A man appeared from the nothingness in front of him. He was older, his hair grey and his face wrinkled, but he had a kind smile. Erik felt better when he saw him, relaxing.
"Do you know where we are?" His voice held a distinct Scandinavian accent.
Erik shook his head. "The last thing I remember is the hospital."
"The hospital… yes… Do you think we're…?"
"Perhaps…" Erik looked around helplessly.
"My daughter… she'll be all alone. I cannot go yet."
Erik was silent. He had no family, no friends. If he was dead, there was no one to mourn. He could only hope someone would rescue his cat, but she had food and water dispensers, she'd make it a week or so if left alone. Long enough for someone to find her.
He wasn't sure how to feel about his death. It was sort of sad, to imagine the lack of a funeral, the tears no one would shed, the bare grave that would never receive any visitors. Ah well, it was too late, wasn't it?
"I've seen you before."
Erik was drawn from his thoughts, looking hard at the old man. "I don't think we've met…"
"Son, you're disappearing."
Erik looked down at his hands which were slowly growing transparent. "What… what's happening to me?"
"It's not your time yet."
Darkness, neverending, all encompassing, empty.
When he came to, all was quiet except for the soft, steady beeping of machinery, and the lights were much dimmer than before. He wanted to turn his head, to get a better view of his surroundings, but his body didn't respond to the order, lying immobile.
A nurse entered, and he heard her pick up what he assumed was his chart and flip through some of the pages, mumbling under her breath. She glanced over at him. "Oh my god, you're awake!"
He couldn't move, couldn't respond, just blinked up at the ceiling that was slowly coming into focus, and finally realized he could only see out of one eye. She sat his chart down and moved to his side, watching his face. "It might take a little while for you to get your bearings. We honestly weren't sure if you'd ever wake up. You've been in a terrible accident."
His eye focused on her, on her heart-shaped face and cascading blonde curls, her delicate nose and plump lips that pearly white teeth tugged nervously at. He was pretty certain an angel was visiting him.
Erik opened his mouth, finding it no longer full of blood, though a metallic taste lingered. "Who… are you?"
"I'm your nurse, well, one of your nurses. I'm Meg." She smiled at him. "Would you like me to sit the bed up some?"
It took him a moment but he finally managed a soft "yes".
Meg raised the bed, propping pillows behind him and fluffing them sweetly for him. The room was bare, a tv playing in one corner at a low volume, a little chair by a window with tilted blinds, and machines at his bedside that were definitely a little worse for wear. It was dismal, but he couldn't even find it in himself to care.
"Why…?" He gestured to his face. "I… can't see." Every word was a struggle, both to think up and then to say.
"Your bandages are in the way, your face was severely injured in the accident, but when they come off, you should see just fine."
Erik nodded slowly, pretty sure he understood.
"I'm gonna go get you some dinner, ok? I'll be right back." As she left, two other young women peeked into his room, whispering to each other. Meg shooed them away and they fled, giggling. Erik barely had the presence of mind to wonder what that was all about.
He dozed in and out of consciousness waiting for her to return. By the time she returned, he had fallen asleep without realizing, waking with a start at the sound of her shoes on the linoleum. She gently placed the tray in his lap. He looked down at the unappetizing cups of mush, that didn't smell any better than they looked.
"Soft foods for you, just for a couple of days." She raised a spoon to his lips and he allowed it, feeling extremely undignified. At least it was just the two of them, he supposed. It wasn't that he was a particularly proud person but there was something especially humiliating about needing to be spoon fed. It wasn't long before he turned his head away, refusing to eat anymore.
"Get some rest, alright? I'll be in to check on you soon." She took his tray, turning off one of the overhead lights on her way out.
Erik stared up at the ceiling, willing sleep to find him. Earlier he'd been unable to keep from dozing off but now, sleep evaded him. He wanted to know the extent of his injuries. Bandages covered most of his body and he felt like he'd been hit by a truck. Perhaps he had. He couldn't remember much of the accident.
He'd been on his way to a New Year's Eve party, driving perhaps a little faster than he should have been, when his phone had fallen down to the floor by his feet. He'd only looked away for a moment, trying to quickly grab the device. He couldn't reach it and had unbuckled, giving the road another glance. The road ahead was clear, he thought he had ample time to bend down and grab it, but then the car had collided with something, he was thrown, and everything after was red, agonizing pain, a mangled mess he couldn't even begin to make sense of.
He slowly flexed and curled his fingers. It was difficult and he knew it'd be some time before he touched an instrument again. He'd be out of work for a while, that much was certain.
Money wasn't really a concern. His parents had left him a considerable amount after their untimely deaths; he worked now because he wanted to. Still, months laid up in bed were far from ideal.
He sighed, closing his eyes. This wasn't how he wanted to spend the turn of the millennium.
The most angelic voice, soft and pure, suddenly arose from the silence. It was so stunning, so otherworldly, that at first he was certain he must be dreaming. He looked around even though it hurt terribly to move his neck, desperate to find the source of the heavenly voice. He was alone in the room, but there was a vent near his bed and he realized that the sound was coming from there. He wondered what room it connected to; was the voice coming from a patient? Or perhaps a member of the hospital's staff?
When it finished, he struggled to sit up a little higher, gathering his strength and his courage. He threw his voice to the vent, hoping it would carry through to whoever they were. "You have the most angelic voice…"
The silence that followed was agonizing and long, until he was certain he'd either scared them away or they simply hadn't heard him.
But then! Soft and timid, a woman's voice replied, "Are you the angel of music?"