Behind The Shadows (Complete)

Episode 7

Out Of The Shadows

Sativa

I'm not sure how long I blacked out, but when I woke up I was in a hospital bed. I couldn't speak or move.

"Church-Girl," someone whispered and I blacked out again.

As I drifted through the labyrinth of my dreams, phrases reverberated in my mind, carrying me deeper into my subconscious:

"You can smile, you know." "What's your name?" "You're an anomaly I can't explain." "I'd rather never see you again than ever hurt you."

The sensations blurred and intertwined, merging my memories and emotions. The dream shifted, and suddenly, fear gripped me. The air was charged with tension, and a deafening sound resonated in my ears, like gunshots echoing through an alley.

A dark figure emerged from the shadows, and panic surged within me. I felt myself drowning, struggling against an unseen force pulling me under. The dream became chaotic, a whirlpool of emotions and memories crashing against each other.

Abruptly, the dreamscape shattered like glass, and I was jolted into a different reality.

"What the hell! She's in VFib! Start manual defibrillation!"

The urgency in the doctor's voice snapped me awake, and I was thrust into a world of bright lights and sharp sensations. The barrier between my dreams and reality shattered, leaving me disoriented and gasping for air.

Around me, the hospital room buzzed with frenzied activity. Hard compressions pounded against my chest, jolting me with each impact. The echoes of my dreams lingered, mingling with the frantic shouts and urgent beeping of machines.

My consciousness wavered between the dreamworld and the hospital room, as if I was suspended between two realities. The lines between memory and present blurred, and I clung to the sound of the doctor's voice, a lifeline pulling me back to the here and now.

"Clear!"

The word cut through the chaos, and I felt the weight of the situation press upon me. The dream's fear was replaced by a stark reality, a battle for my life being fought in this sterile, bright space.

Hard compressions slammed against my chest once more, a rhythmic coordination of desperation. I could sense the urgency, the determination to pull me back from the edge. The dream's dark shadow was replaced by the stark figure of the doctor, the beacon of hope in this moment of crisis.

In that disorienting space between dreams and reality, I clung to the fragments of consciousness that remained, riding the currents of fear, hope, and survival.

"We got her! Her heartbeat's stable. Shit! That was close. Has anyone contacted her next of kin?"

"No doctor, but there's a gentleman outside that's been here to see her every day since she came in."

"Call him in. If this happens again we may not be able to save her." 

I remained unconscious for 2 more weeks.

Two Weeks Later

"Church-Girl," I felt my hand being squeezed. "Open your eyes."

The energy transfer generated from this touch was visceral.

I blinked blindly, struggling to pry my lids open but was unable to. I returned the squeeze instead.