The Day

(23) Awakening

Chapter Twenty-Three

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                The next few seconds were the longest of my life. I lay on the ground, squirming in pain. I felt the sickly feeling of blood rushing from the wound. I coughed, and blood spattered up and splashed me in the face. I attempted to take a deep breath but instead burst into a fit of coughs, my body convulsing as my lungs tried to get rid of the fluids that were overflowing them. Tears were welling up in my eyes. I just stared at the ceiling, thinking about nothing. I forgot what it felt like to die. I’d been dead for so long, that I was safe in a way.

                Starting to lose feeling in my toes and hands, my vision became increasingly darker. I started to see small bursts of light in my vision, and I was reminded of stars. I tried to fight my eyes as they rolled to the back of my head, but they kept snapping up, as if trying to recoil into my brain, where they were safe.

                I turned to my left, my body continuing to shake as my coughing persisted. I saw a large pool of blood coming from me, the gun that I used to kill Brent laying in it. Andrea and Meg were watching me… but wait. That’s not right. Meg isn’t watching me by choice. Andrea is holding her back, covering her mouth. Meg is desperately trying to get to me, to help me through my last few moments. But Andrea isn’t letting her.

                Andrea snarled as she realized I was watching. She wrapped her arms around Meg’s neck. Tightening her fingers around it, Meg’s eyes held a plea. A plea to save her when I couldn’t even save myself. Meg continued to squirm under Andrea’s grasp. Frustrated, Andrea locked her arms around Meg, allowing Meg some time to breathe. Then she snapped her neck.

                Just like that. Meg’s gone.

                Forever.

                “No… no…” I attempted to say, but it ended up sounding more like gargles as my mouth was full of blood.

                I let myself accept the fact that I had lost another one of my friends.

                And that’s when everything turned black.

***

                I woke up to twittering. Opening my eyes, I looked out my window to see small birds flitting this way and that on trees. So unaware. So innocent. So beautiful.

                I admired their grace. The way they could balance their large bodies on those small legs. The way they teased one another. The way their song seemed like the eternal background music to our day. The way they took flight, so gracefully.

                There was scratching at my door. I craned my neck to look at the small crack under the door. I saw four legs. Mr. Meowsir.

                Scrambling off my bed, I ran to the door and opened it, wrapping my dog in my arms as soon as I saw him. I took in his characteristics. The playful way in which his tail was always wagging. The shampoo I used to wash him that smelled like Orange Crush Soda. The softness and fluffiness of his fur in which I used to find comfort in when I was a child.