Someone is calling her name. It starts as an urgent whisper and slowly rises to a hysterical yell. It's pleading for her to return, and she is trying, she really is, but she has no control over body. She tries to call back, but no sound comes out.
The familiar voice is fading now, and with it, Aria.
. . .
You don't wake up in a magical way in hospital like they do in the movies.
There is no slow, rhythmic beep of the heart beat monitor, no sun shining through the window like the finger of God, and there is not drop dead gorgeous doctor standing by your bed as you wake.
It's a slow and painful experience. One minute your nowhere and feeling nothing, the next, alarms are blaring as you struggle to adjust to the world around you.
The room is dark and the walls are a dirty white. There are no other beds in the room bar hers, there's no flowers covering the tables and no balloons telling her to get better. The only thing on the wall is an instruction sheet on washing hands the correct way.
She doesn't recognize this place and struggles to remember how she got here. Her head is trying to wrap I self around her surroundings, but there's a think fog clouding her mind. A sharp pain suddenly rips through her throat as she tries to call out.
She can't speak.
A panicked feeling begins to creep through her body and she looks widely around the room. The last thing remembers is her father sitting on top of her as his hands squeezed the life out of her. What had happened after that? Was her father somewhere in the room ready to finish the job?
Her heart thumps widely in rhythm to the machines alarm beside her. She's trying to catch her breath but it feels like her lungs aren't working.
More alarms join in the chorus and her ears ring from the loudness of it all.
Suddenly the door to her room bursts open and a nurse rushes to her bed side.
"Calm down." The woman urges as she silences the alarms. "Just take a deep breath."
An oxygen mask is placed over her face and her lungs respond immediately. Aria tries to talk but once again her words fail her.
"Don't talk, just breathe."
She watches as the nurse increases the morphine drip, and before she can object, She feels herself falling back into nothingness.
Just thought I would put a sneaky little chapter here ;) couldn't let my readers think Aria had died. More hospital scenes to come...