Voiceless

Chapter Twelve

For a while, I just sit there in the darkness, floating freely. Not a care in the world. I don't really remember how I got here or what I'm doing. All I know is that I'm so relaxed, and I never want to leave. Every once in a while, I'll hover around an orb with an image in it, like a picture. 

Spotting one, I reach my arm out to stroke the image; I have an inexplicable desire to know what it feels like. As soon as my fingertips graze the surface, however, I jerk away. The picture has turned into a video, and I can't help but to stare in horror as I realize it was never a picture or even a video; it's a memory.

It's something rather humdrum, a birthday party. Not a memory I'd even care enough to keep. I lose interest quickly and float away, back into the darkness. As I go past more and more memories, I notice that none are really fascinating enough to hold my attention for long. As I move further and further into the black folds of... wherever I am, I see that the memories become more significant. 

They switch from play dates and watching Grandmother cook to my mother beating me and the accident. Some are even of a blonde... Lydia, that's her name. Everything is hazy when it comes to her. 

I also notice a redhead that my mind tells me is named Haley. I can't remember her too well either. In fact, I cannot even recall how I got here. I start panic as I realize I don't know anything right now, and hysteria creeps up into the body I can't see.

Then I spot the memory that doesn't look like it belongs with the others. It's dark, not even colorful. The others look healthy and bright; this one seems distorted and sickly.

I pull myself towards it and inspect it closely. I start to feel a little woozy, with a spark of pain at the base of my skull, but I shrug it off. I reach out my first finger and softly tap the image.

I feel more pain, stronger this time. I try to ignore it and stare at the images. It's obviously me, looking to my left. I'm in something I can't place, until I realize it's the remains of a minivan. There's glass everywhere: on the ground, in the torn-up leather seats, even one small shard embedded in the crook of my elbow. I cringe as I literally feel the pain radiate from that one little shard.

My neck is reaching a near-unbearable level of pain now, and I desperately try to hold on, just to see what happens in the memory.

The image shows movement: me, crawling forward on my stomach, feeling the razor-sharp bits of glass scrape against my stomach. On the other side of the car, there's a bloody trail leading into a ditch. 

I wonder to myself why this image of me is crawling, following the blood. And then it hits me.

My brother.

The memory continues, although I don't want it to anymore. I know exactly what old Vera will see. She looks down, into the grassy ditch...

I scream as the pain in my neck shoots through my whole body and rockets me away from the memory, and suddenly I'm shooting upwards. I feel almost like a diver who is suddenly pulled from the depths of the Mariana Trench to the surface of the ocean.

And, like any diver, the first thing I do is gasp for breath. 

I flip open my eyelids. I notice the familiar vague, pulsing pain at the base of my skull. Out of instinct, I try to touch it and search for a wound. The only thing I succeed in grabbing, however, is gauze.

"Glad to see you're up, Vera. You scared us for a minute there." I whip my head towards the speaker and cry out as a white-hot pain tears through my skull, particularly at its base.

"I wouldn't advise making any sharp movements involving your neck for a while." I finally recognize the voice of Dr. Davis. Blinking, I see his figure come into focus. He's sitting calmly in a chair, his green eyes as bright as ever. For the first time, I stare deeply into those eyes. Something seems slightly familiar about them, but I can't put my finger on it.

"Now don't get me wrong, Vera, it's nice seeing you but can we meet in some place other than the emergency room?" The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles.

I give a weak grin in return. I put up my hands to sign sloppily.

What happened? 

My doctor's smile fades. "After you collapsed, an ambulance was called for." 

I know that already. 

He shakes his head, seeming to find something about me humorous. "You lost a lot of blood on the way to the hospital, and by the time you got here you'd lost too much. You went into cardiac arrest and were clinically dead for about a minute."

I gaped. Clinically dead? I didn't feel dead. 

"We figured out the cause of the bleeding. Remember that hemorrhaging you had?" He looks at me knowingly. "It turns out it grew much worse after you left. We had no choice but to operate. You'll have a scar, but nothing more."

"And please, Vera! Be more careful. Don't take this offensively, but I don't want to see you again for a long time," Dr. Davis pleads.

I start to nod, but then I remember. So I smile instead, and my doctor leaves me with a stern, I'm-serious look. I'm moved out of the emergency room and am discharged from hospital relatively quickly, as far as brain injuries go. When Grandmother picks me up, I notice her gray hair has a few white strands in it. 

And Dr. Davis was right. All I have to remember the incident by is a small scar where they operated from at the base of my skull. 

I touch it tenderly and wince slightly as I feel a small ache. Pacing around, I wonder what I'll do tomorrow when I have to go back to school. Will Lydia be nicer to me, now that people think she attacked me? Or will she hate me more? And what about Haley?

Ugh. I hate drama.