Fear the Unknown

Chapter 5 [TIME]

I blinked; my eyelids heavy with sleep. As the fog of unconsciousness lifted, the world slowly came into focus. The sterile room bathed in the soft glow of fluorescent lights took on a pale, clinical hue. A symphony of machines beeped steadily, their rhythmic cadence breaking the silence.

Confusion clouded my thoughts. Where was I? Why did everything seem so alien?
Gradually, as awareness seeped in, I noticed the dull ache in my limbs and the tightness in my chest. Panic fluttered within me, its frantic wings beating against my ribcage.

Then, a voice pierced through the haze—a familiar voice. Frida. My friend. Her words reached out to me, a lifeline drawing me back from the edge of bewilderment.

"How is she? Will she be alright?" The concern in Frida's voice wrapped around me, soothing my frayed nerves.

Turning my head was an effort, sluggish and heavy. Frida stood by my bed; her face etched with worry. Our eyes met, and a wave of relief washed over her, like dawn scattering the remnants of a storm.

"Red! You're awake. How do you feel?" Her voice was a whisper, a tender touch amidst the turmoil of my mind.

I attempted to speak, to offer her some reassurance, but my throat was raw, the words ensnared like thorns. After a raspy cough, I found my voice, though it was no more than a whisper.

"I'm okay, Free," I said, my voice a hoarse whisper. "What happened?"

Worry creased Frida's brow as she considered my question.

Memories rushed back in fragmented chaos, the night's events spinning in my mind—a maelstrom of fear and confusion. Gabriel's screams, the hooded figure's relentless grip, the paralyzing helplessness—it all seemed like a nightmare that refused to end.

"How did I end up here?" My voice shook with a mix of fear and relief.

Frida exchanged a glance with the nurse, seeking silent permission to recount my ordeal. The nurse gave a sympathetic nod, adjusting the IV drip beside me.

"The police found you," Frida said, her voice laced with emotion. "They were alerted by the noise and got there just in time to fend off your assailant. An ambulance was called, and here you are."

Tears threatened to spill as I thought of the officers, their timely intervention a beacon in the night.

"Thank God," I breathed, a sincere prayer of thanks to my unseen guardians.

Frida's hand found mine, her grip firm yet gentle. "I'm relieved you're safe, Red."

Her constant vigilance was a balm to my weary soul.

"I'm sorry, Free," I whispered, the hum of machinery enveloping my soft apology. "I'm just... so exhausted."

She nodded; her smile tinged with empathy.
"Rest now, Red. There's no need to explain. Just rest."

Her assurance was a comfort, a reminder that I wasn't alone in this.

Her touch anchored me as she shared a quiet confession. "Your brother was here," she said, her voice filled with regret.

"He left shortly after I arrived."

A sharp pang of hurt coursed through me at the mention of Donald. Why hadn't he waited to see me? Didn't he care?

Frida seemed to read my thoughts, quickly adding, "I think he was just... overwhelmed. He didn't know how to react."

Her attempt to soothe did little to ease the sting, but I clung to her words, hoping they were true.

Before I could sink further into my thoughts, she spoke again, her tone resolute.
"I'm moving your things to my place. You're staying with me for now, until you're better."