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Present Day

Phil's p.o.v

(Italics are Phil's thoughts as previously addressed)

The first thing I feel is warmth. The softness of the blankets running over my skin. The unfamiliarity of it is ever present though and I can't help but notice a lingering thought in the back of my mind, I can't quite grasp it but I know something is out of place. Something is empty, something has slipped through my fingers.

Without opening my eyes I turn slightly in the bed. I feel something tugging in protest at my arm at the sudden movement. It is accompanied with a sharp pinch, but I choose to ignore it and allow the darkness to blanket me once again. It is so easy to slip back into the silence that sometimes I forget it's not where I belong. I am comfortable here, images, colors and laughter flashing through the hectic nothingness. I am content with the happiness the daze of sleep brings me, contrasting from the usual nightmares, so I let it take me for a while longer.

The rustling is what pulls me away the second time. This time I don't feel as though I can slip back into the emptiness again, so I just keep my eyes closed, listening. I notice beeps, mellow and soft. I count them. Before I hear another noise I have reached forty two beeps. Something scrapes against the floor, an unwelcomed noise. Their breathing is heavy, the cool air fanning over my skin and tickling my nose. The beeping has reached sixty five now, and has grown to be quite obnoxious. I would like it to stop.

Before I know it soft fingertips twist into my own, and I smile. Just a little bit, because I think about the way Evan's hands fit into mine. I think about how warm and kind they are. I never knew hands could be kind until I met him. I think about the way he smells like mint, the coldness tickling my nose, contrasting with his personality. I would describe him as anything but cold. My mind lingers on the smell for a moment longer, the smell of pine trees, frost, and air. The kind of air you never want to stop breathing.

I inhale deeply, aching for the comfort of his presence. The air is stale, latex, bleach, and pen ink clawing away at my insides like a knife. I start to notice more things then. I notice that metal is still pulling against my arm. The hand trapping mine isn't kind. The air isn't tickling my nose it's ripping out my lungs. This isn't home. This isn't where I belong. My eyes remain closed. I try to open them but I can't, because something is still pulling me away. I notice the way the beeps have gotten faster, louder, everything is louder. The smell of the air isn't right, I don't want to breathe it. It's not right. I can't breathe. I begin to heave, and the sound of the beeping has reached deathening. I want to scream, to open my eyes and run.

The unfamiliar hand pulls away from mine. I hear muffled shouting, but I can't make it out. All I hear is the word panic. I want the beeping to stop. I want to stop breathing. I only breathe faster. Someone's hand runs over my forehead, whispers things to me. Things about being safe. I can't hear them over the beeping, over my breathing. I jerk away, trying to escape but unable to move. I kick my legs. Someone grabs my arm. Then I feel the cold spreading through me, and the beeping finally slows. I stop moving my legs, they are suddenly too heavy. I am trapped here, they're going to hurt me. Where's Evan? I want Evan. I am once again pulled away.

Finally the emptiness begins to leave me, it wasn't comforting anymore. Warmth replaces it, sunlight seeping onto my skin. I can't figure out how long I have been asleep but it feels like a while now. I open my eyes slowly, hesitantly. The beeping returns to my ears slowly. I take in the things surrounding me. The wide windows beside my bed with the blinds drawn. The worn out chair a few feet away. The monitor beeping along with my steady heart. I blink several times hoping to ward off the fogginess of my eyes and mind. It feels strange, like things are out of grasp yet I'm still awake.

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