Resolution

Chapter Two

       

Lights. Blue and red, shining through at her. Blurred white figures. Sirens.

Shouting, and panicking.

She moaned, and then she was being lifted, and placed on something soft, and was moving.

Someone was holding her hand softly.

She heard a faraway voice.

"It'll be okay, Brooke. You'll be okay."

The lights faded away.

~ ~ ~

She woke to silence. Opening her eyes, she was met with a warmly coloured room, shrouded in darkness. She was lying in a soft bed with baby pink sheets, and was hooked up to monitors and tubes. Across from her was a TV, and a door, then beside her was a window, covered by cream blinds, letting soft rays of light in.

With a heavy head, she slowly sat up and looked to a small table next to her bed, that held a glass of water, a white remote, and a glass table lamp. She weakly reached over and lifted the glass to her lips.

She hadn't noticed how thirsty she was until she began to drink. The water slid down her dry, aching throat like ambrosia. She emptied the whole glass then panted for breath.

Some had slipped from the glass and she could feel it dribbling down her chin.

She placed the glass back on the table and picked up a remote. There was a red button at the top which was presumably to call for help, then a panel for a TV, and then a series of up-down and left-right arrows beneath, with little icons to reveal what they're for, such as a bed, and a little window.

She pressed one of the buttons by the window, and beside her, the blinds slid open.

Behind them was a beautiful green lawn and a lush flowering garden, stretching across to a brick wall adorned with climbing ivory vines. A white butterfly was flitting across a bush of yellow bulbs near her window. The yellow reminded her of the dress she had been wearing.

She watched the butterfly float from one flower to the next, in a dream. It was a fast moving creature, moving with a purpose, gracefully flickering like the ends of a fire in an impossible wind.

She drew her gaze away from the butterfly and to the sky, a stark blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds, shifting ever so slowly, drifting across, figures of beauty and nature.

She felt sick. She looked back down at the remote and shut the blinds.

She was unusually calm.

She wasn't confused, or upset. She was calm. She was unemotional. Perhaps it was because if she was to let herself feel, she would feel everything, all at once, and would break down screaming.

So she was calm.

She played with the remote. She learnt it turned the TV on, and she could access Netflix, as well as paid TV. She flicked through familiar titles and covers, but didn't settle on anything to watch. She didn't want to watch anything. Yet she continued looking. Endlessly flicking, and flicking, without purpose.

The only thing that stopped her flicking was the door beside the TV being pushed open to reveal a nurse adorned in white.

"Hello, Brooke." She said, in a soft voice, as though if she spoke too loudly, she would shatter the pale girl. "How are you feeling?"

"It's K." She said quietly, staring at the screen in front of her. She hated the name her parents had given her, yet people always seemed to insist on her referring to her by it.