City of Light

Chapter 8

Who's Rose--" I am cut off by his exclamatory voice.

"It's here!" As it descends from the clouds the helicopter drops a ladder for us. He helps me stand me up, Mercy is hesitant to climb but she crawls her way up. He helps me reach the ladder as he hoists me up with ease. As I am about half way he leaps up landing just a few bars below me. Mercy helps me up my legs cripple below me and I fall on the helicopter floor. He is a few seconds behind me, he steps over me and pulls me to my feet and sets me down on a seat and buckles me in. Before I know it my eyes feel like a lead curtain, they drop and I let my mind go blank.

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I feel like I'm surrounded by water, voices are muffled, I feel my body being pulled down. Part of me feels heavy, I hear a constant beat, and someone by my side, their breathing slow, patient. I open my eyes and bright white light makes me squint. I try to sit up and let my eyes adjust. I feel my left side leave what feels like a bed, my right side is incredibly heavy, I feel nothing. My eyes finally adjust and I look at whats holding me down.

"What the-" I try to speak but my eyes won't lie to me, my arm. It's all metal. Silver rods follow my fore arm and bigger on in the inside. My fingers are like the skeleton version, precise unnatural looking. I hear the heart monitor beep faster and the person sleeping beside me wakes up.

He lifts up his head and waves over someone beyond the glass, I never look at him, I just look the metal attached to me. Whats going on? Where am I? Who is Rose? My eyes swell up with tears and I see another figure approach me.

"Please stay still." A sharp pain stabs me in the neck, then all of a sudden my heart slows done and I stop crying. I feel like a dam broke in my mind, memories flooding back to me. I know battle tactics, weapons models, peoples names, memories.

"Wheres my squad? Is everybody all right?" I don't know what happened to them. Just fire, yelling, explosions, gun fire.

"Whats your name?" The doctor asks. I look him in the eye.

"You ask my questions first. Where is my squad?" I sternly tell him he backs down and directs his attention to Mathew by my side. Mathew shakes his head and looks back at the doctor.

"We won't rush you with information, you will remember what happened in a matter of time. Let's just focus on getting this arm working." He says. I take a deep breath and center my self.

"Of course." I say. He presses a small button on my shoulder, a thin plate of metal which is covering the burns. Now I can feel everything, I feel alive.

"Now please follow me." I get out of bed a little shaking of course. But I feel very functional considering what I have been through. I wear white sweat pants and a white T-shirt, not the most comforting thing ever. Better than those itchy gowns, Mathew must have told them. He takes me to the waiting room. There I spot my parents, surrounded by body guards, in black and modified glasses.

"Darling!" My mom yells. She opens her arms wide to me and I walk into them. Her tight red dress and pearl necklace brings a familiar smell back, the one time I ever missed her perfume.

"Carla please you're making a scene." My dad stands next to her and remains neutral.

"Like we weren't making one when we arrived dear." She looks at my arm in amazement.

"It turned out great." She sweetly smiles at me. People call it award winning, she had better modeling days.

"It did indeed." I take a step to my father and present my hand. He strongly shakes it, he trained me to have the "perfect hand shake".

"Father." I look at him right in his eyes. Not even a blink, they're soulless.

"Melvia." We release our hands. They finally recognize Mathew's existence.

"Thank you, Mathew, for everything, she is very lucking to have you." My mom says.

"Melvia when you're ready to put your skin on, call my office. Of course, go easy on the arm." He hands me a business card with the office number on it.

"Thank you." I quietly say. One of the guards calls into his mic and tell them to pull the cars around. The body guards follow us out, my parent's car is first. I get in the second car along with Mathew. The line of cars begins to move, I ask the driver to turn on the radio. The car fills up with the news. I always liked the news, my father forced me to listen and told me to open my eyes. I guess it grew on me. The man on the radio updates us on the war and corruption. Mathew starts reading and I go back to listening and looking out the tinted window. The tall buildings, shiny and colorful. People shuffle around the stores, the street lights dot the highway. Parking ramps swirl around the building like a coiled snake, planes fly over the night sky and disappear into the clouds. A small part of me wants to go back to the coma, back to an empty canvas. But in a way I miss the war, I miss the constant need to survive.