Cevic

Chapter 36

I just wanna be by your side

If these wings could fly

Oh damn these walls

In the moment we're ten feet tall

And how you told me after it all

We'd remember tonight

For the rest of our lives

 

-Wings by Birdy-

 

Scars and future

 

 

Light filtered through my closed eyes.

For the next moments, there was nothing, just oblivion.

No feeling. No thoughts. No awareness of existence.

Then a few seconds passed, and a thought slipped through the cracks.

Am I dead?

Slowly my cognitive senses gathered.

Is this how it feels to be dead?

“Now I regret it.” A familiar voice came, sotto voce. “I regret it to my bones. It was too strong.”

 “He breathes well. He lives. ” A rumbling, baritone voice replied calmer than the former.

 The moment I had registered the fact that I heard a voice, I had thought maybe I was still somehow alive, still on the brink of death, total oblivion. But hearing the two voices- hearing the male one- I was certain I was dead.   

  The female voice was still antsy. “He breathes, but shallowly. He lives, but is on the verge of death. He is so pallor!”

A cough came from me. It was not agonizing or sudden, but slow and raspy. My fingers curled at the sides.

  I concentrated on breathing in and out, which had suddenly become a hard labor.

“Oh, Eron, can you see me? Can you hear me?”

Too-familiar hands clasped mine. Immediately warm tears trickled down my eyes. How could I shed tears even dead? Woes existed in life or death. Hearing the two voices was a gift. Hearing the voices, I was no longer scared.

  I would enjoy this while I could.

The voices were so vivid, so real, so painfully real. I absorbed it with an inhale, and a shuddering sob tore through my lips.

 Real.

“He is in pain! He weeps! Do something,” she implored.

“Eron, Eron. Listen to me.” The wondrous, strong, powerful voice came softly in my ear. “You don’t have to hurt or worry anymore. You’re safe now.”

  Oh, yes, yes.

“You’re safe now.” The whisper staked through my chest.

I commanded my eyes to open. I was alive. I wanted to live.

 Aé pe tos.

My eyes drank in his face.

 I saw his golden eyes, the sweeping olive colored hair and the firm set of the mouth. His face was no longer as pale as a ghost’s, cheeks flushed with blood and eyes alive. His face was no longer gaunt and worn-out, belonging to an older person’s. He looked young, powerful…and himself.