Constance thought she could finally stop looking over her shoulder. She has a steady job as a hairstylist, rents a small apartment next door to her best friend, and keeps a routine that distracts her just enough to not have to dwell on her past.
All...
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A/N: Hey I just wanted to do a quick shout out to every single reader, even the silent ones. Yes, I see you there (; It may not seem like a lot but, I have over 1k views and 100+ votes. I couldn't be more honored to have people actually read and enjoy my work.
So to you, whoever you are, I freaking love you <3 ____________
"No, she doesn't feel a thing."
Of course I can feel, idiot. The war drums pounding inside of my head are definitely making me feel things. .
My body, however, won't move. I feel like I'm at that in between state, not fully asleep but also not awake. I'm aware of the voices around me and the occasional touch of flesh on mine but I'm too tired to open my eyes, too tired to try. Sometimes dreaming about faces but most of my sleep is too deep to dream. I float in and out of semi-consciousness, catching bits and pieces of conversations.
". . tell me everything Doctor. . "
". . She's safe now. . "
". . .I love her. . "
So many voices swirling around but one stands out. One voice calls me out from my darkest abyss; a sound that I had stored away until now.
My eyes finally open. Slowly, bright light blinds me while I blink away my sleep and try to adjust my vision. Before I see anything, I hear steady, rhythmic beeping close by. Soft snores fill the empty space between beeps. I begin to gain feeling back in my body. My toes stretch, my shoulders rotate and my hand closes. That's when I feel another hand in mine. The soft snoring stops and a second later. .
"Connie? Constance!"
That voice. .
"Nurse! Nurse, she's awake!" Hurried feet speed towards me and within minutes, faces are appearing. Hands stretch my sore legs, cold instruments listen to my heart beat and questions are flying at me like bullets.
"Miss, do you know where you are?"
"What year is it?"
"Do you know your name?"
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
All of those valid questions go unanswered when I see the one face I've sorely missed. I would recognize his stupid grin anywhere.
"Mmm-Michael." That's all I can say before the darkness pulls me back.
***
When I open my eyes again, it's less of a struggle to move and think. This time, I'm alone. There's a small chair with a duffle bag sitting in it and a phone charging by the window. The TV ahead is silently playing an old black and white movie with bad acting.
The monitor is still beeping which is good, it means I'm alive and not in some wacked out version of Hell. I'm in a hospital bed with wires connected to every part of my body, even one between my legs for me to pee into.
