Darkness

Ch.3: A Friend

Everything was bright. Too bright. Slowly I drifted awake and I found myself annoyed. Where did all this light come from? Must be the sunrise. My bedroom windows always faced it. But this was different. Did dad turn my lights on? I was on my back, laying on something hard and cool. This was not my bed.

This was not my bedroom.

My eyes shot open.

The light was nearly blinding and I attempted to cover my eyes but my arms felt too heavy and refused to budge. There were odd noises, like thumps. And a voice. It was familiar but they were clearly panicked.

"Ok. Ok." he said, "She's not dead, She's...yes, she's still alive. Primus, did I do this? But she was doing it before I even—why did I pick her up? Of course I made it worse."

Blue light filled my vision for a moment, and the voice continued, "Ok. Still alive. She's still alive. Do I call a medic?"

"What?" Was all I managed and the voice went suddenly quiet.

"Kathrine!" The light was blocked and two glowing eyes came into focus above me.

A sharp wheeze was my best attempt at a scream.

He moved from sight, "Ok, definitely alive."

It was him. I was still here. The ceiling hung high above me and a horrible feeling slowly sunk into my chest as my mind caught back up. I couldn't believe it: It was real. I wasn't dreaming.

"Fella, you ok?"

I nodded but found myself quickly on the verge of tears. My throat hurt terribly as I tried to hold back sobs. With effort I pulled my hands to my face, rubbing my palms against closed eyes.

"What's going on?" He asked, "I promise I won't grab you. I'm sorry about that, I wasn't thinking," he sighed, "Wasn't thinking again. Sorry."

"I just need-" I choked out, "need a moment." Once the tears came it felt impossible to stop, and silence fell around my muffled sobs. I tried to pull myself together, but to be honest, I was having trouble finding a good reason to. I should have never even been at the lab, in a way this was all my fault. I just had to see the test. I had begged for years, before any kind of prototype had even been seen as possible. I made him promise he would show me, and he jumped through hoops to give me my one chance. What if I messed something up just by being there? What if dad blamed himself?

I'm not sure how long it was, but when I finally cracked my eyes open I felt drained. The sides of my hair and the back of my neck were wet with tears and my hands felt gross from wiping at my nose. I probably looked pretty worse for wear too. When I rolled my head slightly to the side I could see my robot friend sitting on his knees waiting patiently, as much as him being there should have reinforced my despair, I was grateful I at least wasn't facing this entirely alone.

Pushing myself into a sitting position wasn't as impossible as it had felt when I had first woken up, and I noticed my backpack laying haphazardly next to me. Quickly I found the half-empty tissue pouch I had shoved in the pocket ages ago and blew my nose.

"Hey, uh," he sounded unsure, "That was quite a leak there, are you ok? Was that an injury? Did I...?"

I shook my head, studying the gross tissue I held in my lap. I wasn't sure what to say, nor did I really have the energy to worry about it. When I did try to speak I had to stop and clear my throat; I was beginning to appreciate how patient he was being with me. "So this is really space?" It felt like less of a question and more of a confirmation.

"Fraid so."

"How do I know?" I asked, trying hard not to sound accusatory, "How do I know it's the truth? It feels like I'm just sitting in a room, not a spaceship." How do I know he wasn't lying?