Sirens (Theo Raeken) [1]

Hallucinations

I am in a hospital.

I know this long before I open my eyes because of the sharp chemical smell of hand sanitiser that tickles my nostrils.

I am not on a bed, nor stationary, but rather feel as if I am a buoy on water, bopping up and down. My pain is still substantial, but has gone from sharp stabbing pains to more of a dull ache. My hands feel normal and I flex my fingers slowly, grasping onto reality through each bend of the joints.

The horror that was in place of my nails seems to have left, but I am still scared to open my eyes for what I imagine would greet me. There is a smear of dried blood on my cheek, and I shrink away from what I could be in the form of. Hallucinations, the word slices through the veil shielding my mind from any clear and formed thinking. I tell myself it over and over again, until it becomes repetitive, a steady a tune. It was a hallucination. It was a hallucination. It was a hallucination.

And then my mind jolts awake and I feel as if I'm breaking through the surface of water. My eyes flutter open into the painful light overhead. I am gasping for the air which my body had so little of, and reaching out for something, anything to anchor me from the spinning which my head is doing.

"She's alive," someone says above me. Too close, too loud. My head can't formulate where I am. It is as if every sense is separated and the jigsaw pieces won't come together to form a complete setting.

A boy stands over me. No-not over me. He's holding me. He doesn't look very strong but he is there, keeping me up, steady arms beneath me. He has blood on his shirt. I have blood on my shirt. I know him, but not his name. His face is familiar and kind but I have never spoken to him.

"Come with me," she says. Who is she? My mind is spinning and I'm too tired to even turn my head to look at her.

As the boy walks, I know definitely that this is a hospital, the foul stench of plague and illness masked by alcohol and chemicals. The ceiling is too white and too bright and I shut my eyes and let the light paint red spots all over my eyelids. I feel myself drifting off and snap open my eyes again.

"Am I dying?" I ask to no-one in particular. My voice gets lost among the sounds of the hospital: the rain beating down on the roof, the wheeling of beds, the banter of doctors on their break.

But the boy still answers. "No," he says. But he doesn't seem sure. He sounds as if he is convincing himself that he's not holding a dead girl. "You're not dead." I almost believe him, until my wound sends a wave of pain up my body. I groan.

This part of the hospital is quieter, and we have left behind the flurry of activity in the main hall. The woman walks confidently, purposefully, and I admire her steady nature as my brain feels like it's bouncing around in my skull.

"Is Scott alright?" she asks. She must be close to Scott. Does she know what Scott is?

The boy answers with a confirmation of Scott's wellbeing. Something pushes through the haze of my thoughts and I know who the boy is. Something about his voice brings his name to materialise in my mind.

"Liam?" I croak out.

He nods absentmindedly as if my words never really reached his brain. The woman is opening one of the doors that branch off the hall. The room looks white and too clean. Liam sets me down on the bed and a sharp pain stretches all through my body, down to the tips of my toes. I groan and close my eyes to stop the tears rolling down my cheeks.

The woman picks up a large syringe filled with clear liquid. "Now, we're going to need to put you under local anaesthetic. I want you to relax and try not move too much." She jabs the needle into the hollow above my collarbone and I slowly feel the muscles tightening and numbing. I can feel my heart pounding in my ears to a rapid pace. The woman tears open my shirt with a blade and I shiver from the cold.