Alright, So I have been flooded with ideas and I couldn't keep myself from writing them down so, here is Chapter two. If you are lost, the first chapter is my last entry. I am doing this for Jake, my husband, and I want it to be perfect for him so I need some feedback. Tell me what you think, what I could fix, etc etc etc. ;) Thanks!!
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The pain that blossomed and made me gasp. I could not cry out, I could not do anything but grab my chest. The man had walked away, disappearing around a corner. It was only seconds before I collapsed and swam into a dark tunnel.
First, I heard a woman scream and it seemed like days later until I heard the wailing of an ambulance. I felt myself lifted and hauled to a hospital. There were shouts around me but I couldn’t move; I couldn’t open my eyes. Doctors shuffled around me, sticking things into my skin and checking my pulse. Their voices were tense and curt but I never understood what they were saying. I felt as if I were submerged in honey, oozing its sweetness into my ear drums.
At first there was a pleasant light outside of my eye lids. It glowed as if I were lying on a beach, just resting my eyes, until I’d again jump back into the water. I came in and out of that state of peace. But soon the light turned harsh, burning, and I would leave my placid beach and slam into the hospital. It was then that I felt pain searing through my body, as if my blood had turned into acid. Someone pressed on my arm and when I tried to swat them away my arm remained frozen, a stump of skin and bone. Soon, I realized that I wasn’t able to move anything. I was trapped inside my body, screaming in pain; remaining muted and powerless.
It seemed to be months, maybe even years, that I remained petrified and still. Every day it became harder to bare then the last. My stomach ravaged me with hunger, but I had to wait until I felt the agonizing pain of a tube being ripped into my stomach and felt it pump me with liquid sustenance. I felt as if I was suffocating as the ventilator pumped oxygen into my lungs at an agonizingly slow pace. After every pump I felt as if I was going to die but then, in the last terrifying seconds, it filled me up with air again. There were sores that slowly grew on my hips and on my elbows. They burned my skin with pain so intense that I felt myself weep inside, but I wasn’t able to shed a tear. I wanted to whimper as I felt the nurses clean them, breaking them open, and squeezing the puss out of the sores, but I didn’t make a sound.
The pain subsided slowly, but I hoped that the grains of sand in my time in my fleshy tomb were about to their last grain. Numbness crept into my skin as I laid motionless day after day, week after week. My nurse, Rosetta, was my only companion, the only connection I had to anyone outside of myself. When she cleaned me and fixed my I.V. drip she told me about her day, what was worrying her, and what she was excited about. She told me of her son Sean who was graduating from high school and thinking about going to New York for college. She told me about her husband, Jason. His boss had just fired him and they were worried about making ends meet with her being the only one working. She also told me about her friends Nichole and Melisa. They always judged her by the way she raised Sean. They always told her that “If you don’t control him more then he will fall into trouble and it will swallow him up.” She would sigh and say, “I just feel that I need to support him and help him do things on his own. I always show him how much I love him…I hope that I raised him okay.” Whenever it was her shift I always got excited, wondering what new things she would tell me about.
On one Monday, on May 16th, she sat on my bed again thinking aloud.
“Sean told me that he has decided to go to New York for sure.” She paused, breathing heavily.
“I just don’t want him to be so far away…I know I told him that I would support him in anything he did but, this is so hard. I love him just too darn much.” I could hear her smile softly, “but you know what, I hope I will always have you Charity. Maybe when you wake up we can be friends.” She took my hand in hers. Her hands were soft and warm, and through her palm I could feel her tenderly reaching out to me. Her finger grazed my forehead as she brushed aside a hair that had fallen on my cheek. She smelled of ginger and vanilla and I wanted to swallow it in because it had become such a comforting smell.
“What about you Charity? What is your story?” she asked as she folded my sheets on my stomach. “Why doesn’t anyone visit you? Where are your parents?” Her voice was thick with concern. I felt her eyes study my emotionless face.
“Well, no matter. You’ve got me.” She replied cheerfully “I’m gonna go and get you a new I.V. bag. Sound fun huh?” She chuckled as her feet softly kissed the ground.
After Rosetta had changed my I.V. and slipped a pillow under my hip, she left for the night. Not long after she left I heard a strange click of shoes. They seemed to echo against the walls and against my skull. The smell of leather and sweet smelling cologne washed over me. I listened to the footsteps come closer to my bed. The room grew cold, the warmth of Rosetta had left with her smile. I felt the pressure of them staring intently. Even though the voices were mixed with the ever present beep of my heart monitor, I heard them clearly like the clanging of church bells.
“So, what seems to be the problem? Why are we here?” this first voice was deep, his syllables trimmed with authority.
Beep.
“Well, Sir, there seems to be a bit of a mix up.” Replied a softer, more organized voice.
Beep
“Involving…?”
Beep
“Charity. “
“I am assuming that this is Charity?” The first man said with impatience.
“Yes, Sir. That would be her. Well….I don’t know how to put this, but she wasn’t supposed to die. We killed the wrong Charity.”
Beep
There was a labored sigh.
Beep
“How did this happen? Why haven’t you told me sooner?” asked the man addressed as Sir. His voice had become heavy and rough with frustration.
Beep
“Well, Charity Powell was supposed to die, but apparently there are two Charity Powells’ in the same city. This Charity’s birthday is 1986 but the Charity that was supposed to die was born in 1956. We skimmed her file too fast I guess. And the reason for not telling you sooner...I just hoped that she would wake up, but it’s been quite some time now and she remains in a coma.”
Beep
“So, you admit that this was your mistake?” asked Sir.
Beep
“I’m afraid so. It won’t ever happen again but I don’t know what to do at this point and I will need your help fixing it.”
Beep
“You were right to come to me.” Sir said. Then, he was quiet, which I gathered as a contemplative silence.
Beep
“Well,” he said “I hope that you would have come to me sooner. But, here’s what we can do now, really the only thing we can do. Instead of…..”
I didn’t hear anything more because my ears were suddenly filled with a long drawn out sound that filled me with terror. As I heard the stretched out Beep of my once loyal heart monitor, I knew that I had died.
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