I hear his voice, echoing in my head as he sings to me. He does it everyday. He comes into my sage green hospital room at the same time each day, sits in the same pale pink chair on the right side of my bed, holds my hand and sings a different song. Of course, this very well could be all in my head. All of this could be in my head. The room could be orange, not green. The chair could be yellow, not pink. Of course, this would be an ugly hospital room if that were to be the case.
His voice is soft, careful, as if he doesn't want to wake me though I'm in a coma. Or maybe I'm dead, who knows. I could very well be dead which would give me reason to be hearing his voice, but I hope to the Gods that I'm not.
His voice is coated with anger and pain, but he tries to sound as calm as possible. He sings rather beautifully if I'm being honest. How did he know I like the songs he chose to sing? His voice comes out less pained each time I have to admit this time, I'm glad he's no longer singing sad songs. I can't stand sad songs.
His voice has a sort of longing to it this time as he whispers the lyrics rather than singing him the way he did at first. It hurts my heart to know that this could all be very well made up but... it's worth it to hope right?
I can feel my body ache, even in the state I'm in, whatever that happens to be. My back kills me. My head kills me. But my ears... they soothe me. Or, more so, the sounds they allow in are what's soothing. He introduces the song this time, saying it in some silly sports announcer voice.
One day in specific that he comes to sing, I notice a change. His voice is... less this time. Less powerful, less hopeful for my return. I don't know why. I don't know what I did wrong. But he's less hopeful;. Have I been asleep for too long? Have I been absent for far too long?
I hear a faint noise, a beep-ing, ringing through my ears. Beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep. It sounds sort of like a heartbeat. Bu-dum, bu-dum, bu-dum. I feel my heart beating, the sound flowing through my veins and pounding in my ears. My body twitches, I feel it. Alive, moving, living. My eyes flutter open, met by the same room of which I saw in my head. Sage green, though this time it has soft white curtains and flowers, cards, and other gifts sitting on the nightstand.
"Fleur?" I turn my head to the voice. Darion, sitting in the pale pink chair, shoots up. His eyes light up with relief as he envelopes me in his arms. I groan, causing him to instantly get up.
"Hold on, let me get the doctors." he rushes to the door and swings out into the hallway. I hear his voice in the distance followed by footsteps.
"Sir, you're going to have to stay out here in the hallway. We'll update you on her state in a moment." a doctor says, shutting the door. I can hear Darion's pacing. I can imagine it so vividly that it's as if I was watching him even though there's a wall in between us.
The doctors check my pulse, blood levels, and oxygen levels, nodding to one another while someone scribbles something down. The world spins, my focus not present. I can't process anything they say so I just let them poke and prod and examine until they're done.
"Fleur right? I'm Dr. Ramos and I'll be the one seeing you from now on. You're in stable condition right now, but we'll be keeping you here to monitor you. If you have any questions feel free to ask whenever I'm here or use the phone to call for me. If something begins to hurt unbearably bad or you feel like you need a medical professional for anything, push the red button located on the remote." the doctor explains.
"Thank you." I smile with what little strength I have. The doctor nods and walks out, exchanging her place in my room with Darion who rushes through the door and instantly over to me. The door clicks shut as he practically falls on me. I feel his body shake slightly, his breath catching a little. I place my hand on his head, rubbing my fingers through his hair. He shudders and I know he's crying. He rises and wipes his eyes a few minutes later.
"I'm so happy Fleur. So happy. I thought... I thought..." he trails off. I don't need him to finish to understand what he means.
"Hey, I'm not leaving anytime soon. You can count on that. I'm not that cruel." I told him. It makes him smile which makes me smile. But deep down, the words of the promise I just made echo inside of me. No one can guarantee they'll never leave, or even promise that them leaving is a future event not a present one because deep down, you can't guarantee that your words will ring true.
YOU ARE READING
If Only
Teen FictionCOMPLETED: You know how they say high school is going to be the best years of your life? Yeah well, that's a fucking lie being said directly to your face. Fleur Hazel Moss found that out the hard way. She always believed it would be great, but the t...
