Cogent

TWENTY

There was light shining in Noah's eyes. He turned his head away, darkness easing the stinging sensation as shadows fell across his face. His fingers twitched, and someone took his hand. They held on, carefully avoiding contact with his sore knuckles. He pulled away automatically, startled by the stranger's touch.

"Sorry." they whispered.

Noah anxiously struggled to open his eyes, but it was difficult. They seemed stuck together. Reaching up, he wiped at his eyelids, rubbing them until they parted. Light made him blink, shrinking his pupils. He uttered a soft moan as his brain pounded a quick rhythm at the base of his neck. Vision returning in small bursts, he looked toward the voice.

There was a brown-haired girl with sky-blue eyes seated next to him. He stared at her face, absorbed by the intensity of her gaze. Ten, then twenty seconds went by without a blink from either of them. She didn't speak or breathe. Just looked at him. He stared back, weighed down by a dull throb that seemed to ache in every part of his body. There was something familiar about her face...something about her eyes...the color...

A handprint on the white ceiling. A smear of blue across her nose. The smell of wet paint...

The girl blinked first, breaking his gaze. "I'm sorry. It's rude to stare...I'm just so glad you're okay," she said to her hands. They sat in her lap, fingers entwined.

Noah took that moment to figure out where he was. Green spotted curtains surrounded the hospital bed. A thin white blanket covered his bare legs. Glancing downward, he saw that he wore a cotton gown the color of pea soup. He felt it come open in the back as he sat up.

The girl looked up. "Um, maybe you shouldn't move too much..."

Noah ignored her, shifting on the mattress. When he swallowed, he felt something in his throat. Reaching up, his fingers brushed a small tube in his nose. Frightened, he pulled at it and gagged.

"Don't do that!" the girl said, placing her hands over his to keep him from removing the tube.

"W-wha—" Noah began, his voice cracking. Scared, he searched the girl's face for answers. She was still holding his hands. Clearing his throat, he tried to ask what it was, but the feel of it at the back of his tongue made him gag again. "What is it?" he managed to ask in a rough, strained voice.

"It's a feeding tube. They said that you're malnourished," she explained.

Noah closed his eyes briefly, horrified that he had been so unaware. He was entirely vulnerable here, so trapped by all of the attachments snaking out of his body and into the machines by the bed. The beeping was making him anxious. His chest felt tight, heart thumping faster as the fear grew into panic.

"Are you okay?" the girl asked. "I'll call the doctor," she let go of him to get up.

Free of her hold, Noah tore at the tube, yanking it out of him and hitting it away. He pulled at the needles too, removing the IV and the clamp on his finger. He tossed the blanket away and swung his body toward the girl's empty chair, trying to grab it and pull himself up. He missed, hitting the floor hard on his wounded leg. A cry of pain exploded from his sore lungs. The sound was rough, his voice breaking from the force of it.

"Help!" the girl cried, running to the doorway. "Please, somebody, help!"

A nurse entered, a small woman with olive skin and jet-black hair. She took a few seconds to assess the situation before bending over him and taking his arm in her firm grip. "Let's get you back in bed," she said calmly.

Noah sat on the floor, holding the end of the bed for support while his head spun. "I need to get out of here," he mumbled. The dizziness hit as soon as he tried to stand up, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. He couldn't stay in this place with all of these people—it was too dangerous. He needed to get away before someone started asking questions that he couldn't answer.