When Light became Dark (Old TDEC)

Part One- Chapter One *Revised*

Part One- Melissa

Chapter One

Footsteps awoke me from my slumber, and I found myself shaking with weakness as the panic set in. I was completely unaware of my surroundings, and could not recall any factual information, not even my identity. My eyelids felt too sleepy to lift- almost as if I had been drugged- and a pounding headache made my forehead feel as if it had been split in two.

I began to hear voices from my left-hand side, but the sounds were muffled, almost as if the people had been speaking while underwater. I lay there for many agonizing hours, wondering whether I should sleep, or stay awake and decipher the mystery of these voices, as they became more defined as the seconds ticked by.

Sometime later, a creaking window was opened and a warm shaft of sunlight fell on my face and neck. So I was alive- but one thing surprised me: I could have sworn that my eyes were open, but why could I not see the sun? Something ticklish brushed against my arm- a feather maybe?- and I heard a woman exclaim;

"It's extraordinary- all the natural reflexes are there. Almost as if she is awake... "

At this absurd statement, I mustered the energy in my muscles to pull myself up into a sitting position, only to find my limbs unresponsive. I fell reluctantly back into the darkness...

A shock wave pounded the metal, and a wave of extreme heat engulfed me. I covered my face with my hands, rolling myself into a tight ball on the seat, but the fire was still everywhere. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, evaporating before they touched my parched lips, and I began to scream, even though I knew that there was no-one there beside me, no-one there to drag me out of this wreck. 

Pain exploded in my head, then at the top of my back, as I felt a section of the roof collapse. Then the door began to crumple, drips of molten steel hissing on my bare skin. My hand began to grope for the handle, muscles burning with exertion. I was losing the battle...

A hand began to shake my shoulders, gently at first, but then more urgently. I returned back to reality, and gave a small gasp as a voice began to speak;

“Welcome back, Melissa. We were all very worried for you. ” The man then paused and I heard a click of a ballpoint pen. “What do you remember?”

It took me a while to realise that his question was directed at me, and even longer to form the words on my tongue. The last memory I had, I decided, was of the vague impression or a party, with balloon, champagne, and plenty of music. At the mention of this word, I felt great happiness- I liked music very much. "Party."

"A party? When was this?" The man asked in an almost patronizing tone, and I got the feeling that he knew the answer already. I felt a surge of irritation, but decided that I should try and answer him, whoever this man was. I had, however, no recollection of when this party was- or even why I was there. It depressed me to think about what might have happened when I had the feeling that all was not as it should have been, and could not recall even the simplest of words.

"Don't remember, OK?" I snapped rudely, and I felt the bed-springs expand as the man stood up. I immediately felt remorse towards him, as he had not- to my knowledge- done or said anything particular upsetting or offensive. Why did I suddenly feel so angry?

"Don't go." I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "Please? Where am I?"

I felt a hand slip into mine- and how comforting it was to feel the presence of someone nearby! "Don't worry. You're safe in the hospital now; you've been here for quite a while."

"In hospital?" I repeated his words blankly, waiting for the words to sink slowly in. "Why?"

"You suffered a head trauma from a vehicle collision, then fell into a coma. We have been unable to wake you for one and a half months." My throat constricted, and I felt sick even though I knew that it was impossible for me to have eaten.

...we were returning late from London... my parents began to natter again about the village allotment project, of which they were both chief executives... back into the leather seat...

"How... parents dead?" I whispered, fearing for the worst- I loved them like I loved my best friends. They were part of me, ingrained into my soul, and if they went, I would have no idea how to function from day to day.

"Alive and both resting at home, I'm glad to say. There were, of course, a few broken bones and more than enough bruises and cuts, but we are hopeful that there will be no permanent damage. It didn't take us long to fix them up; you were the worrying one!" The doctor chuckled, tactfully changing the subject before I could ask again regarding their health.

"So can I see my parents?" I asked, childishly pleased that I had at last formed a complete sentence. "What about my friends?" Although I could not recall their names or faces at that moment, I assumed that I must have some good friends. Maybe I could ask my parents about them when they visited...

"Don't get too impatient, Melissa; you have hardly been conscious for half an hour!" He laughed again, and I began to imagine this doctor's face; maybe in his early forties, with laughter lines around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes, and an unhealthy red complexion. My imagination often ran wild, many times landing me into trouble when I voiced my thoughts out loud.

"We will send word back home and to your friends," he reassured me, "but for now, don't worry about all that- it's our job, not yours! You must rest so that you can heal."

"Doctor?" I managed to grab a shirt- sleeve before he left my bedside, in the process, nearly dislocating the needle in my wrist. I heard him sigh, whether with weariness or frustration, I could not tell. I felt almost indebted to him- it seemed that he had been the person most responsible for my recovery and awakening. "What needs to heal?"

 "I am needed elsewhere, Miss Finch." Was his stiff reply, and from this, I knew that something was very wrong. Pushing the disturbing thought to the back of my mind, I calmed myself with a deep breath.

 The doctor would not want to risk his chances by not letting me rest. I have come so far, but it sounds like I still have a way to go. If I sleep now, all will be much better later. The doctor is talking sense, not proclaiming a death sentence, after all!

I slept peacefully for the last time, for at that hazy, sedated moment, it did not occur to me why I couldn't see the sunlight, even through the paper-thin bandages which encircled my head.