POWER PLAY // Nick Wilkins

One

The sudden itch was maddening, crawling beneath my skin like a thousand tiny insects. I resist the urge to claw at myself, knowing it would only worsen the raw, sunburnt sensation that engulfs my limbs. And then there was the fever, raging through me like a wildfire, pushing my temperature to a dangerous high.

Was I dying? It certainly felt like it. The events of that wild desert night played over and over in my mind, each memory more vivid than the last. Whatever we were exposed to had nearly claimed my life, along with the others.

The gifts and cards from fans pile up on the nightstand, a testament to the outpouring of support I receive. But in that moment, they felt like distant tokens, unable to alleviate the agony that consumed me.

My girlfriend sits in the corner, sleeping peacefully in my hoodie. Her presence is a small comfort amid my suffering. I don't have the heart to wake her, not when she looks so serene amidst the chaos of the hospital room.

As I lay there, trapped in my own body, I clung to the hope that this nightmare would soon end, leaving me with nothing but a memory of survival.

There's a knock in the doorway, and a young nurse, muscle-built with a twinkle in his green eyes, glares at me from the doorway.

"You need anything, Nick," He asks, his thick voice booming through the room, causing my girlfriend's big brown eyes to blink open.

"Nick?" She calls my name.

"Yeah, Meghan. I'm still here," I say, shifting uncomfortably and painfully in the sheets.

"I need to take your temp. Do you want food or anything," The nurse asks again.

"Mmm, not hungry, man, but thanks," I answer him, my blue eyes flicking to Meghan again.

"Alright," the nurse pushes into the room and grabs the thermometer, shoving the tip under my tongue. "Hmm, it's going down. You feeling better?"

"A bit," I reply, the thermometer still poking the back of my mouth.

My monitor bleeps as if responding, and my stomach rumbles as if it hadn't been fed for days. The nurse turns on the blood pressure cuff. It squeezes my skin, clinging to me like a bumper sticker, and the nurse jots down the results into his gloved hand.

"I'll let the doctor know you're feeling better," He says before leaving the room.

"You sure you're okay, babe?" Meghan asks. I nod, barely able to keep my eyes off my now-dinging phone.

Ding....Ding....Ding......Ding.........Ding. The dings only seem to grow louder and more aggressive.

"Dear god. Can you please shut off my notifications," I screech. Reaching for the pillow behind me, I cuff it around my ears.

"I thought you liked your fans."

"Yeah, not when the dings harass the shit out of me..." I snap.

Ding...Ding...Ding.....DING! 

"God! Shut up!" I scream. Meghan rises from her chair and grabs my phone from the tabletop. CLICK—click. She shuts it off, and then, heart thumping—pounding, and loud voices grind my senses in one moment.

"...28 still has a temp, but his blood pressure has dropped significantly...uh, huh...yes, doctor Ramesh. Will do..." I swear I heard from outside my room.

"HELLOOOOOOO!!! I want to go to the bathroom," Someone else shouts. "These Doctors are so fucking dumb."

Suddenly, noise from all over hits me. I cover my ears, my heart hammering in my chest—thump, thump.

"Make it stop!" I scream.

Bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep...

"What's wrong?" Meghan asks me, rushing over in a panic. She rubs my thigh, soothing me the best way she can, and I slowly uncover my ears once the noises and inner thoughts stop.

"The noise...It was as if I could hear everything at once—"

"You okay now?" She asks me, caressing my hand in hers.

"Yeah," I reply. "I've got to take a leak," I mutter subconsciously, realizing I need to catch my breath alone. I swiftly peel myself from the bed, monitors wailing, as I yank the wires from my chest and stumble lazily down the hallway toward the bathroom.

Slap, slap. Slap, slap.

With each foot stomp, dizziness settles in again. Nurses rush into the room, checking on the monitors as I reach the restroom doorway and lock the door behind me.

Taking a large, huffed breath of air, I sigh, leaning over the sink to catch my breath. In-out. In-out.

Knock, knock.

"You okay?" The green-eyed nurse's voice booms through the doorway.

"Yeahhhhh, just give me a minute," I speak.

"Next time, warn us before you get up, bud," he says.

I look up at the mirror before me, studying my sunburnt skin—red like a lobster and flaky like a fresh piece of bread.

I brush water on my face a few times, trying to skim the sleep away.

My hands sink into the side of the countertop as I study my deep blue eyes. My dirty blonde hair looks a bit more dirty than I remembered. My skin is clean of acne, aside from a few minor bumps here and there.

Yep.

My hand curls around the sink handle before I feel a weird sensation in my gut—a 'butterflies in the belly' kind of feeling. It's not something I usually think about, but I wasn't surprised it was happening.

My digits dig into the metal of the handle just as my feet leave the floor. I hold on for dear life to the handle, feeling it crumble under my strength as I float up, up, and away to the corner of the ceiling.

Knock, knock.

"You okay in there, Nick?" Nurse green eyes asks.

Ummm.

"Super," I mutter, trying to lighten the uneasy mood.

What in the hell?

Holy—how do I get down? I swim through the air, trying to focus on my breathing. In-out. In-out.

Whack!

My head smacks against the wall with no pain. Why didn't that hurt? Holy shit! What is happening to me?

I bob around the room, trying to steady myself against the ceiling.

"Nick, are you okay in there?" Meghan asks.

"Umm..." I hesitate. Gosh, when I get out of this restroom, Meghan is going to kill me.

I drop the crushed pieces of metal in my fists, watching them clatter to the floor. "Everything is—" FLOATING! Everything is floating with me. Huh?

I bob around a few more seconds, trying to find a way down, taking deep breaths, before I hear the door unlatch behind me.

Shit.