Feel Again

Prologue

Isaac

     I lay motionless in the bathtub. The once warm water was beginning to cool but I didn't budge; I just lowered myself deeper into the soapy liquid, letting it lap over my body and soak every inch of me to the bone.

Reliving that moment was all I had left. Despite this, it clouded my mind from seeing the past clearly; from seeing everything and everyone I had. Back when I had the freedom to do and feel whatever I wanted; when I wasn't caged in this hellish nightmare I had trapped myself in long ago.

It's not that I wanted to feel the pain. I just wanted to feel something. And as of recently, all I could remember was being pulled deeper into the darkening abyss as I felt the oxygen being beaten from my lungs and my life quickly disintegrating before my eyes.

I wanted to see past the pain, past the misery. I wanted to remember how she had made me feel that day as I waited by the beach, with my heart pounding against my rib cage, my hand trembling in my pocket as it clasped around the golden band.

It kept me awake at night, having something so graphic and dark playing itself over and over again in the back of my mind, beckoning me to watch; to listen to the screams as I was pulled out of the water.

Lying below the surface of the tub with my eyes glued shut, I could hear them. I could see the shadows lurking below the surface and I could see those black, empty eyes bore into mine. My pulse rapidly starts to increase at the thought of it, replicating the adrenaline that rushed through my body the moment my mind realised what was inevitably happening. I'm drowning.

That's when it hits you; your body rushes into overdrive to salvage that last breath - those last few seconds – that could make all the difference between life and death.

I didn't see the bright light. My life didn't flash before my eyes. There were no voices beckoning me; only my own subconscious thoughts pleading for me to hold on. It made me wonder if that was really my time to go; to let go of life and those I loved.

Or if I just had sheer luck.

I remember the aftermath of the accident. I remember feeling like I was drowning in the back of the ambulance and the rhythm of my heart as it pulsed a beat that it thought was its last.

I remember the hospital and being rushed down its corridors with an oddly shaped object cupping my nose and jaw. Lights flying over me. Frantic people and frantic faces. I remember wanting to scream and cry out in pain but my body did not respond. I lay motionless like a corpse.

I remember being hidden behind that curtain, whispers surrounding me. I was unsure whether they were real or just taunts from inside my head.

And I remember – all too clearly – the conversation with Doctor Lewis that followed.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Isaac? Isaac can you hear me?" said a broad, peculiar voice.

I tilted my head from side to side, debating where the sound was coming from. My ears felt full. My head was spinning. Again it spoke to me.

"Isaac? Listen to my voice, Isaac."

I responded with a disorientated grunt and just managed to open my eyes, the bright lights above blinding me as though I was being interrogated. Doctor Lewis stood at my bedside, two younger women behind him, all of them dressed in the same, depressing uniform.

"Isaac? You have been asleep for almost a week now. Do you remember why you're here, Isaac?"

I just nodded. Doctor Lewis referred to a clipboard hooked to the bottom of the bed's frame.

"The damage you had suffered was extremely severe, Isaac. There wasn't much we could do and so..."

He paused, sighing deeply.

"The 'accident' meant you lost a lot of tissue from your right leg and the little remaining had become infected. As well as this, many of the vital nerves needed in order to walk were badly damaged also. We have preserved the majority of the tibial, common peroneal and superficial peroneal nerves in your right leg but..."

He glanced down at my leg. I copied his actions, praying that what he was implying wasn't true.

"I'm truly sorry, Isaac."

I tore the covers away at the bottom half of the bed, vigorously. There was just a stump, bandaged heavily like I had been partly mummified. Inside I was screaming, the images playing over and over again inside my head, dancing like those shadows lurking under the sea.

The room was spinning and so I let my head rest in my palms. A childish whimper left my lips.

"I'm sorry..." Doctor Lewis repeated before leaving the room in silence.

I looked up and my eyes followed him to the doorway. There she stood, salty droplets running down her plump cheeks, her eyes bloodshot and blank.

"Charlotte." I pleaded, wiping my cheek.

She turned to look at me but she shook her head.

"I'm sorry... I... I just can't." I recalled her whimper as she started for the door.

"Charlotte!" I pleaded again, trying to sit up.

I knew it was no use. There was no chance I could get to her in my state. But I loved her and I couldn't let her go.

"Charlotte please!" I repeated once more, but my vision was now blocked by the numerous nurses around me, struggling to tie me down.

It was no use.

She'd gone.

* * * * * * * * * *

I stared impatiently at the mug as the burning liquid dripped into it. The sweet, lush aroma of coffee filled my nostrils. Its steam rose to my chin, coating my unshaven stubble. I had been sleeping rough for the past few weeks, my eyes now sullen and bloodshot. I looked a state, with my damp hair also sprouting in various directions, but who did I need to impress?

It had been a month. She'd gone. And she wasn't coming back.

     I turned myself to the window, mug in hand, only half the liquid remaining due to my desperation for caffeine and the ability to stay awake. Doctor Lewis had arranged for me to be 'temporarily' moved to this new apartment not too far from the hospital and even now - a month after the accident­­ - I had still not gotten used to the unfamiliar view. It overlooked the carpark which was one of the main reasons I was situated here – it was less desirable than the other apartments, evidently cheaper, there was no balcony (as I'm not allowed one - for reasons that would infuriate me if I were to explain) and was just down the corridor from the elevator. Having to travel down it every morning to get to the lobby, without being noticed, is much easier said than done.

     Clouds were beginning to form outside. The sky becoming dark and unfinished. It reminded me of a painting that someone too stuck up had just left half-done; like it was a mistake.

It was how I felt - how I felt about myself.

I was just a stupid mistake; her mistake. And that is why she left. I closed my eyes and saw her face; her long blond hair, her deep brown eyes, her tinted cheeks the colour of rose petals. She was my everything. I inhaled deeply, holding back the tears. I missed her, despite it all.

Why did she have to go?