I am Clara

White Light

Body lighter than ever, the pain was gone. Wet grass and rough tree bark replaced by soft material, I felt as though I was on a cloud. Favourite song playing in the background, cedar and citrus smell filling my nose, I was probably the most content I had ever been.

      Eventually curiosity took over, so when I heard something to my left, my eyes fluttered open. Vision blurred for the first couple of seconds, all I could see was white. Vision slowly clearing, I grunted, lights too bright. Startled by the nearness of green eyes and raven coloured, wild hair, I flinched. Squinting at his smiling face, Andrews laughed quickly, releasing a breath of relief.

      "You had an egg sandwich for lunch, didn't you?" I mumbled, stretching onto the white, hospital bed sheets.

       My best friend snorted, backing away as he shook his head amusedly.

      "I was going to ask, but it seems you're feeling quite alright," he commented. "By the way, you've not brushed your teeth in days. Your breath isn't all that fantastic either."

       Days? Weakly, I flipped him off, only now noticing the bandages around my shoulder, chest and abdomen, and the cast on my right leg.

       "You look confused," he chuckled softly.

       "I'm a little hazy," I admitted, struggling to sit up. Changing my position, I hoped to lessen the drowsiness.

      "Woah!" he stopped me, hand on my chest, keeping me firmly against the small mattress.

      "Are you crazy?" he scolded. "You have broken ribs and have barely survived a stab wound to the gut, amongst other injuries. Take it easy, will you."

      "Sorry, I—"

      "If you want to sit up," he interrupted gently. "I can raise the head of the bed. Just don't move, alright?"

      Nodding, I let him control the bed remote, biting back a smirk at his immediate protective stance. Though he was clearly pleased that I was awake, above his bright smile, was dark bag under his eyes, proof of the rough days he had endured. If I knew him like I thought I did, he had barely left the hospital room.

       "How long was—"

      I stopped talking, Andrews and I turning towards the hushed voices on the other side of the door. Jumping to take a peek inside, I briefly saw either Tyson or Tyler's face through the small window.

       "She's awake!" was shouted in a chorus, and in an instance my four siblings burst through the door. Startled nose escaping my throat, my eyes grew wide with surprise, three of the four having jumped on the bed. Isaiah stood back warily, careful not to hurt me, wincing himself as the three others landed. The medication must have been strong for I felt nothing.

       "It's fine," I told him, laughing at the three excited kids. Permission to join received, Isaiah let Tyson pull him onto the bed, Bella having to use much more force with Andrews. Roughly landing on his side, half hovering above the kids and I, I laughed as Andrews struggled between remaining worried and sharing the kids' excitement.

       I didn't understand a word that was said, the twins and Bella shouting at the same time. Andrews, Isaiah, and I, blinked cluelessly, laughing at the chaotic confusion. The three to babble aimlessly until Andrews rolled off the narrow bed. He caught himself from fully falling but knocked down a flowerpot in the process. Kneeling, he took a handful of shards and dirt, as though hanging on to hope that the destruction he caused could be reversed.

       "Even we can't fix that," the twins said.

       Snorting at their comment and Andrews' look of disappointment, the four followed suite, giggling as we watched him attempt to clean his mess.