Remember Me

Chapter 13

Lupa

As soon as I pass out, darkness envelops me. It remains dark for what feels like an eternity, and then the dreams come, and the pain. Nothing makes sense.

I dream of starving on the streets of a ruined city, with a unicorn eating a nice juicy hamburger nearby. He teases me, holding the burger on his horn in front of me and then prancing away. I am so hungry, nausea takes over my stomach and a killer pain spreads through my body, it's source, my right ankle.

The first time I wake up, I can't tell I'm awake. I'm so cold that I'm numb, the only heat and feeling coming from my injury. It's swollen and raw, with red spreading under my skin. I look closer, and see phantom black cracks seeping through my veins. The room is twisting and spinning at impossible angles, changing colors from yellow to blue to green to every other color under the sun. I try to touch the ceiling. Then I vomit.

I think there's a man with me. I can hear his voice, feel his hand on my back, but when I look at him, he is my father. I see his curly brown hair and kind green eyes, and I hear his voice in my native tongue-which I thought I could no longer understand-saying to me, "Hush my daughter. Be still and lie back down. It'll feel better soon."

I think I try to reply in that ancient language, but nothing makes sense. I listen to his soft voice and his gentle hands as he helps my shaking, frail body lie down on the bed. There are butterflies on the walls that come to life and dance in front of me. I vomit once or twice more, and then I pass out.

I see faces and memories flash by my eyelids in a hurry. Not one is connected to another, but they are friends and family who loved me throughout my long, painful existence. Slowly I sink back into the depths of unconsciousness.

***

The next time I wake up, I am famished. My stomach is yowling for food, and I feel much better. There is none of that drowsiness or hallucinations from last time. There is a sheen of sweat that dampens my entire clean body-which is clothed in garments that are much too big and boyish to be my own.

I don't understand my surroundings. Gone are the vibrant, vivid colors and the living butterflies. The walls are faded blue, the floor hardwood. The bed is a late forties model, very outdated, but one of the most comfortable things I've ever slept on.

I try to sit up and look at my wound, but my elbows buckle and I hit the pillow with a thud.

"Easy now," says an old man from the corner of the room that I failed to notice before hand. He walks over and sits beside me in a chair that I missed the first time I was awake as well. "You'll be a bit tipsy at first 'cause you've been out so long."

He has a southern drawl to his voice, and when I see him, he instantly yells farmer at me. Everything on him is faded, from his dark green John Deere hat, to his orange and red plaid shirt and jean jacket, to the well worn, ripped jeans he wears, to his work boots. Even his eyes and hair is faded of color. Soft green eyes and hair that is turning from red to grey.

"How long have I been out?" I rasp. My throat is dry and my voice is hoarse from disuse.

"'Bout a week."

I groan and rub my eyes, muttering, "Shit, Ava is gonna kill me."

"Is Ava yer sister?" The man asks. "You were talkin' in yer sleep and her name popped up a few times."

I shake my head. "No, she's just a friend. Have I really been out for a whole week?"

"Well, you've been off an' on, 'specially when you had that fever, but I think yer good an' awake now."