Undone [Completed]

Undone: [Eleven]

Eleven

Max

“So what I’m saying is, basically, that’s just not me.”

I heard myself make a sound of acknowledgement, I think, but I can’t be too sure because I wasn’t exactly focused on the conversation. And while that wasn’t ideal, or polite, on my side, I couldn’t help but allow my mind to wander…

Max wasn’t sure if he was alive. It didn’t feel like he was dead – he wouldn’t be able to think if he were, but on the other hand, the fire had been hot. How had he made it out?

He tried to sit up from the laid-down position he had assumed, only to feel his body collapse from weakness. Groaning, he decided he’d remain on the bed – it was definitely a bed – and tried to remember. He’d been tied down, that much was all too well aware of, but after that it was a blur. He recalled vaguely the thick clouds of smoke, struggling to breathe, orange and yellow, but that was all. The sensation of pain was one he recalled too, but he was unable to shed light onto how it had all ended.

Moving onto the present, he couldn’t feel much other than the dull ache, a pain that seemed to fade into the background…almost as though his body were accustomed to it.

Wait.

He made another attempt, this time to gather his bearings. There was the dull throbbing that he’d established, but nothing else. He tried to press his legs into the bed, but to no avail.

Breathe, he told himself, his way of pushing down the rising wave of panic that was about to crash.

He knew that they’d left him – John and Mark – but had they returned? What if they had? What if he was being held captive, at their mercy for more cruel games?

He forced himself to open his eyes then, still afraid. He’d kept them shut because the effort to keep them open had been exhausting, what with his eyelids feeling unnaturally heavy , but the notion that he could be in hostile territory was more than enough to push him to ignore his discomfort.

He let out another involuntary groan.

Eyes open as wide as he could, he did his best to place himself.  He was facing a ceiling, white in color and tiled, and from the corner of his eye could make out that the meager light source, for it was dark, was the Sun. The rays, however, were somewhat scattered, leading him to conclude that the blinds had been drawn.

In retrospect, it was difficult to understand why I’d chosen to follow that chain of thoughts. I have no idea why it took me so long to figure it out.

His body was numb, he was certain now. He could feel his arms by his side, but nothing else. His legs too. He knew he had a head, obviously, but he couldn’t move it.

A few moments and he belatedly realized that he was breathing through a mask – an oxygen mask.

‘Of course!’ was the first thought that occurred to him, shortly followed by, ‘Seriously, how did I not notice earlier?’

He felt rather foolish.

Just then, the sound of a door clicking entered the air.

*

Max was alert. He’d been left in this room in seclusion for a reason, so it was likely that whoever it was wouldn’t return for a while. He had been lying awake for what had felt like hours anyway, and wasn’t about to let this person go.