2
I am awake. -But I feel like cement. It takes effort to breath, and my heart feels labored to pump blood as it bangs against my chest without a rhythm. It feels cold and heavy behind my eyes, and even as I shut them there is no relief. The glow and feel of light grates into my iris and explodes in my brain.
I cannot think. Too bright- to painfull.
I peel my eyes open, enough to see what's infront of me. I did not notice it until now but I am on a bed, in a white room. I am relieved for an instant, that I am safe.
Safe from what?
Anarion! Isildur! Where are they? I shouldn't be here.. I must find them! My body lurches forward, my stomach in my throat- I shouldn't be here! I regret this instantly, my body screams back at me, my head splitting. Involuntarily, my body falls back onto the bed. The room spins, my body is spinning, spinning- falling. Aching.
An upset murmer rolls across the room.
"I think he's awake." -a female voice.
"No, I think that was just something in his dream. His eyes are closed still." -an older voice.
I lay still, my eyes shut. I wanted them to think I was sleeping. I did not feel like creating an scene if I was awake- I did not want to answer questions, to be handled. I felt 100 years old, decaying. Wasting.
I feel pathetic. A fit man in his 20s laying helplessly in a bed in the hands of women. Im pathetic. Worthless.
A soft hand caressed across my forhead. For the moment I felt happy.
I haven't known that feeling in a while.
The hand touches me again, a soft woman's touch- gentle, loving, peaceful. I tilt my head back, letting the hair that had clung to my face fall back- welcoming the hand again.
I heard a voice, a silvery sound that floated aimlessly into my ears, rolling lightly off my head. My body just melted into the bed, I could not recal then the pain- it fled me.
The voice came back along with the hand, which now started at my forehead and ran along down my face, its fingers trailing out and tracing my jaw bone.
"Remington-" Her voice faded out, light as a feather in the wind, warm as summer. It surprised me when I finally reckognized the word as my name.
"Remington," She called again. I could feel the wind of her voice wisk around my ear.
"Open your eyes."
I closed my lips, only just noticing that my jaw had been openend indolently. I heard the woman's voice intake breath as she saw me move. Her voice just barely picked up eagerness, a dim flame flickered in her tone.
"Follow my voice." Her fingers traced down the side of my eye and along my cheekbone. Don't stop. Continue-
I lifted my arm and my hand found hers still on my face. I rested my palm ontop of her hand and held it to my face. Her touch cooled the flame that burned inside me- eating at my cuts and bruises. Her cooling touch- I held it to my face- my aching face.
My eyes rolled open slowly, and they saw a beautiful face staring down at me, with beautiful inquisitive eyes.
Blackness, peace.
I lost consciousness again.
I am awake. -But I feel like cement. It takes effort to breath, and my heart feels labored to pump blood as it bangs against my chest without a rhythm. It feels cold and heavy behind my eyes, and even as I shut them there is no relief. The glow and feel of light grates into my iris and explodes in my brain.
I cannot think. Too bright- to painfull.
I peel my eyes open, enough to see what's infront of me. I did not notice it until now but I am on a bed, in a white room. I am relieved for an instant, that I am safe.
Safe from what?
Anarion! Isildur! Where are they? I shouldn't be here.. I must find them! My body lurches forward, my stomach in my throat- I shouldn't be here! I regret this instantly, my body screams back at me, my head splitting. Involuntarily, my body falls back onto the bed. The room spins, my body is spinning, spinning- falling. Aching.
An upset murmer rolls across the room.
"I think he's awake." -a female voice.
"No, I think that was just something in his dream. His eyes are closed still." -an older voice.
I lay still, my eyes shut. I wanted them to think I was sleeping. I did not feel like creating an scene if I was awake- I did not want to answer questions, to be handled. I felt 100 years old, decaying. Wasting.
I feel pathetic. A fit man in his 20s laying helplessly in a bed in the hands of women. Im pathetic. Worthless.
A soft hand caressed across my forhead. For the moment I felt happy.
I haven't known that feeling in a while.
The hand touches me again, a soft woman's touch- gentle, loving, peaceful. I tilt my head back, letting the hair that had clung to my face fall back- welcoming the hand again.
I heard a voice, a silvery sound that floated aimlessly into my ears, rolling lightly off my head. My body just melted into the bed, I could not recal then the pain- it fled me.
The voice came back along with the hand, which now started at my forehead and ran along down my face, its fingers trailing out and tracing my jaw bone.
"Remington-" Her voice faded out, light as a feather in the wind, warm as summer. It surprised me when I finally reckognized the word as my name.
"Remington," She called again. I could feel the wind of her voice wisk around my ear.
"Open your eyes."
I closed my lips, only just noticing that my jaw had been openend indolently. I heard the woman's voice intake breath as she saw me move. Her voice just barely picked up eagerness, a dim flame flickered in her tone.
"Follow my voice." Her fingers traced down the side of my eye and along my cheekbone. Don't stop. Continue-
I lifted my arm and my hand found hers still on my face. I rested my palm ontop of her hand and held it to my face. Her touch cooled the flame that burned inside me- eating at my cuts and bruises. Her cooling touch- I held it to my face- my aching face.
My eyes rolled open slowly, and they saw a beautiful face staring down at me, with beautiful inquisitive eyes.
Blackness, peace.
I lost consciousness again.