Through the Wringer

undeviginti

"Dalton!"

"DALTON!" The voice said with more urgency this time. I could hear it, vaguely. It was feminine, soothing... But it sounded frightened. Not frightened in a, "I'm scared of you," way, but more so a concerned frightened. If you get what I mean. My eyes fluttered open, but nothing would come into focus. The room was bright, too bright. My eyes felt like they were being assaulted, and I squeezed them shut again as the backs tightened in recoil. Mere moments later, I tried again. Fluttering open once more, my eyes watering, a female figure came into my hazy view. My mind wandered, searching for a name. J, J, J... Jo... Jocelyn. Jocelyn. My mind repeated it over and over, swimming in my clouded brain for memories that utterly refused to come to light. Jocelyn, Jocelyn... Slowly, I began to recognize who this person standing over me was. My foster mother. Not my real mother. Where is my real mom?

The pain hit my chest in a matter of seconds after that. My mom is dead. My dad is dead. My little brother and my baby sister are-- you guessed it --dead. My eyes began to water again. Jocelyn pulled me up and held me to her body, my head to her chest. I didn't want her to, I didn't want this woman to touch me. But I didn't fight it. I'm alone in this world. All I have ever loved, all I've ever known, is dead. There is nothing I can do to reverse it. You can't reverse death. You can try like hell, but once someone is gone, that's it. They aren't coming back.

I could hear Jocelyn's heartbeat hammering in her chest. Thump, thump-thump, thump, thump-thump, thump, thump-thump. She was scared. I didn't know why. Her breathing rattled in her chest, as if she was crying too. But why? Was something wrong? Did I do something to upset her?

It came to my attention that she was trying to speak to me. I didn't know how long she'd been attempting to, but she seemed hysteric. Another person was also in the room. I looked at his face, playing another cautious game of pairing name with face. It started with a C. C, C, C... Chris? No, not Chris. Colby? No... Corbin. Corbin is his name.

Corbin and I locked eyes. His mouth parted, and I didn't know if it was for a breath or for a word. It turned out to be words, but I couldn't hear him over Jocelyn's heart. I didn't understand, why was it beating so fast? I couldn't focus on anything but the fast tempo of the rhythmic beat-- thump, thump-thump, thump, thump-thump, thump, thump-thump. The beat began to slow, as if she was calming. I felt her grip tighten around me, though. As if she couldn't fathom the idea of letting go. Corbin came over to her, trying to pry her away. She eventually gave in, and let go of me. I looked at both of them, sitting straight up now. Instead of her heartbeat, I became conscious of my own. Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump. My heartbeat-- there was no rhythm --just a fast staccato beating against my breastbone. Jocelyn looked at me, seemingly concerned, and started to talk. But I couldn't hear her. It was still just my heart, hammering in my ears.

But then there was nothing, and my world darkened and spun out of view. I remember feeling, tumbling to the side, off the bed.

And then, I heard Jocelyn scream.