In the Shadows of Survival

Prologue

Three hundred and twelve days...that is the last time I saw her. Every inch of my body aches. From the raw skin and blisters on the bottom of my feet to the scabbed over patches on my scalp where hair once was. The bright white of the LED lights burn my eyes as I sit in the hospital bed. The rhythmic high pitched sound of the monitors tracing my heartrate ring in my ears. My left arm is covered in goosebumps from the icy IV fluids flowing up my vein. I can only imagine how rough I look to her. A beat up, malnourished, shell of the self I once was.

She won't look me in the eye, and I don't blame her. A lump forms in my throat. My body wants to cry. Wants to reach out to her and hold her while I let the waterfall of emotions rack over my body. But over the months I've been gone my brain has learned to cage those emotions for my protection. So I sit eerily still in the stiff bed. I survey the police officer picking at his thumb nail outside my room. I wish I could be him. Unaware of the true danger that followed me here.

"Emmy?" muttered a soft hoarse voice. I jump a little as I'm snapped out of the trance the rhythmic beeping has put me in. I look up and into the corner where the small voice originated from. Pain shoots down my neck and shoulders. I didn't realize just how long I had been motionlessly staring at my hands.

I lock eyes with her. The old Sloane is hidden under the shroud of sadness and sleep deprivation. Dark bags frame her amber eyes making them look almost black. Small pools are welled in her eyes and the tracks of past tears streak her face. Her knees are to her chest as she hugs on to them in the small chair. A messy ball of hair tops her head in a bun, the way she always used to do when she hadn't washed her hair for a few days. Even in her dishevelled state she is as beautiful as I remembered her. I feel my heart break a little as I process what she has also gone through. I try to respond to her but I can't seem to form the words.

"I thought..." Sloane's voice catches as she holds back more tears "I thought you were dead" she mutters.

I swallow the lump that has been sitting in my throat since I arrived at the hospital.

"I did too" I croak. My voice is scratchy and my throat is sore. I don't recognize it as my own. I see Sloane hug her legs tighter. A fresh tear falls from her eye and leaves a stain on her grey sweats.

I have thought of Sloane everyday since I last saw her. I relived this day in my head over and over, the day we would be reunited. The thought of embracing her once again is what kept me alive for all those days. It was a lot happier than this moment. It was filled with joyful tears and hugs. The sun would be shining and the warmth would wrap us in a peaceful blanket. This was not what I had imagined. This is all wrong.