I could feel the sticky coldness of wet grass tickling my sides as the blades moved gently in the breeze. I could feel the sharp corners of small rocks as they dug into my legs, and the soft pain caused by a large bumpy stick under my right hip. All of these sensations accompanied by the smell of wet grass and the faint smell of flowers forced my mind into consciousness.
The sky was a mixture of pink and blue, but I couldn't be sure if it was morning or evening time, though judging by the singing of the birds I would guess the former. I laid there listlessly, enveloped in too much pain to take in my surroundings, I doubt I would survive for very much longer for it to really matter much anyway.
I slipped back into unconsciousness, lulled by sweet bird song.
When I woke next it was to the distant barking of a dog. I had to pry my eyes open; my eyelashes were caked together and unwilling to let go. I grunted as rocks grazed my check as I turned my head to the left hoping to get a better look around me. From what I could tell I was at the top of a hill, from here I could see the twinkling lights from the village that rested at it's base. I slowly turned my head to the right and saw a spattering of trees that gradually turned into a thick forest. I doubt anyone would find me all the way up here, and that meant I didn't have much time left.
How ironic would that be? To have such an unbelievable, what should have been impossible encounter, with the truth and die before I could see any of the world I had read so much about? It would serve me right I suppose. Maybe I flew to close to the sun and now I am plummeting down and in seconds I will smash back to earth.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw something red; glancing down I saw blood, it was thick and shiny and there was lots of it. I looked at the puddle, almost detached from the gruesome sight before me. I seemed to be observing from on high, as if I was detached from all of it like none of this was real, as if it was only a TV show where the main character looked like me.
My eyes followed the blood to it's source and with the same detachment took in the sight, or lack thereof, of my missing right arm. In my arm's place was a stark emptiness. I could see blood covered grass and my reflection in the scarlet pools, but it was more than that…it was empty of the flesh that should have rested there. All that was left of what should have been were pieces of dangling muscle, stretched out skin, and the shocking whiteness of bone.
I know I should have felt a loss at the missing part of my physical self, but I couldn't feel any such thing. Perhaps my mind wasn't ready to accept this new world as my current reality and so revoked any emotion attached to this place. Either way, I was glad that I didn't have to deal with the mental pain of my situation on top of my physical pain.
The next time I woke up it was to the comfort of a warm, soft bed. The feeling of detachment lingered in the back of my mind, but I felt connected to this place in a way I hadn't when I observed my injury at the top of the hill. The room held a feeling of warmth, whether that was due to the bright yellow paint that adorned the walls, or the homemade quilt which I currently rested under I couldn't be sure. All I knew was that I was not in a hospital, rather in someone's home.
What was left of my right shoulder had been carefully wrapped in strips of white linen. From the scratchy feeling against my face and the slight tug against my hair, I could tell my head had been wrapped as well before I even reached with up with my remaining hand to make sure. For a moment I was confused as to why that would be necessary but the memory of truth staring back at me with a strikingly familiar green eye reminded me that I was now partially blind.
I struggled to pull myself into a sitting position, my body was weak and I only had one arm to maneuver with. If I had lost my left arm this would not have been so difficult, but I had lost my dominant arm and now I would have to relearn everything.
To my left there was a window from which I could see a few houses across the street. Two kids caught my attention, a boy and a girl no older than five were playing on the porch of a small house with a ball. They seemed to be so carefree, so easily enjoyed by the simple rolling of the ball. I couldn't help but wish I was five again, sheltered from this shit hole my life had so suddenly become.
The door to my right creaked as it was slowly opened; an older woman walked in back words balancing a wooden tray in her arms that held a bowl full of steaming water, towels, a glass of water, and more bandages. She turned around and closed the door with her shoulder; she looked up revealing a gentle face that was just beginning to show signs of age.
She quietly set the tray down on the table next to the bed, her long yellow dress flowing softly behind her, and smiled. Her smile was kind and warm accompanied by dimples to either side of her face.
"Hello, look who's finally up, "her voice was cheery with a hint of concern.
"H…hello." I only just managed to cough the greeting out, my throat was raw from screaming and talking was difficult.
"No need to be shy, my dear." She flashed me another smile, one meant to be comforting, and handed me a glass of water. The glass was cool against my fingers, a welcome sensation in contrast to the pain I was in. Twisting the glass in my hand slowly, I looked at my reflection and I found I didn't like the girl staring back at me. I drained the contents of the glass.
"Let's get you up and change those bandages." She gently placed one arm around my shoulders and another about my waist and helped me into a sitting position, even those small movements sent pain shooting up my shoulder and through the rest of my body and left me exhausted.
She carefully removed the bandages from my head and washed wound with water and what I thought to be some kind of antiseptic cream and from the looks of it I could tell it was a home remedy. She then repeated the process on my shoulder. During the whole ordeal I had to bite my lip from crying out, the cream stung and the feeling of cool air against my open wounds was painful.
"There, that wasn't that bad, now was it?" She had to be kidding me, that was awful, and I had a feeling she knew exactly how bad that had been.
"You must be hungry," my stomach took that moment to rumble in agreement, "I'll take as a yes." She giggled as she walked of the room.
She left the door open and from it I could see part of the hall way. The wall was made of wood paneling with a tasteful floral wall paper running just above the ground. A few picture frames lined the wall, but from this far away, and with my damaged vision, I could not make out the pictures.
I heard the sound of light footsteps and the soft clanging of metal signaling the lay's return. She was carrying an old wooden lap tray that had a bowl of chicken chowder, a slice of bread, and some milk resting upon it.
As soon as she set the tray across my lap I dove in, eating with vigor I hadn't known I had. The food tasted heavenly, and whether that was because I was starving or because the lady was I good cook I couldn't say.
"My name is Lucy," she told me after I had finished eating. "Some of the children from town went to go fetch firewood and found you…they said you were dead and they weren't far off. It's a miracle that you are still alive. You lost a lot of blood, you're lucky we have some transfusions at the clinic."
"A clinic? Why am I here and not there?" Wouldn't it be better if I were in a hospital if I were so close to death?
"It's only a clinic, and a small one at that. It's not equipped to deal with injuries of your magnitude, I was surprised they even had blood available to give you. I have some experience dealing with wounds like yours, so I felt it was best if I took care of you."
I picked at the blanket absent mindedly. How can anyone be so giving? Taking in a stranger like that, even if they were injured.
"Thank you. I don't…I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you." How could I ever begin to repay her for saving my life like she did?
"All you have to do it get better, live." She flashed me another smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She seemed sad, but why would she be so sad over a girl she does not know?
After a moment of silence she turned and walked to the door, "get some rest." She closed the door quietly behind her and the silence in the room grew even stronger.
I turned my gaze back to the window, but I didn't really take in the scene before me. My mind was to focus on my situation, my impossible situation. What in the hell was I going to do? I didn't know where I was, and I didn't know when or if I even could get back home.