Comatose

Chapter 10: Cheery Children

                                             Hani's POV

   My chest heaved inwards and out as relief fills my body, my muscles untense from their clutches, causing my bones to turn to jello.  I can't even describe the amount of adrenaline that is coursing through my veins at the moment.  The room seems like its all blurry and opaque, not sure if it's from the salty tears that are trickling down my eyes and flailing towards my pointed chin, or it's just the fact that my heart is pounding a million miles per hour with my blood racing through my body. It's probably both, to be honest. 

   My hands are frozen and trembling uncontrollably, tears rapidly race down my cherry cheeks. 

   My bloody palms still rest flat against the splintered, white wooden door, rogue pieces of the door poke and prod at my skin, but my skin is still numb from the trauma. At the moment, I try and focus on abating my puffs of shaken breaths that withdraw from my quivering lips. 

   Cold sweat clings to my brunette eyebrows, running down my face and creating a disgusting mixture of tears and sweat. That was no dream, it was a horrid nightmare, an agonizing nightmare that would always be branded into my mind, creating a dire and unwanted trauma. I know that every time I remember that moment from now on, I will feel the flesh-tearing, finger inch claws, scraping against my skin. The piercing sensation of my flesh being punctured by a foreign creature. Just the memories brought me to pure unnerving terror. 

   Was it going to be like this now? Did the stunning dreams finally contort to malicious night terrors? 

   I suck in a single, deep inhale, then twist my body around to meet the other side of the room, I can't just have my back turned forever, that would give those...I don't know what to call them...Shadow monster...? Well, it would be an even better opportunity for them to pounce on their prey, the wounded zebra...aka me.    

   I'm suddenly brought to pure nostalgia, the strong scent of sweet, sweet vanilla frosting, and the heated smell of freshly baked cookies, bringing me to absolute euphoria.  It was my grandmother's homemade frosted cookies. My grandmother made the cookies for my first Christmas, I was only one year old so I don't know how I am able to recognize the smell after so many years, but it never left the back of my head or the front of my heart.  

  The room I was standing in was a decent size, maybe the size of your average, modern classroom. The carpet boldly standing out with its fluffy, stainless beige self, only concurring half of the room, creating a discreet border between fluffy carpet and shimmering, dark bamboo flooring.  I can vaguely memorize this place... It's the house I lived in as a child. 

  Glittering, illuminating strings of various hued lights plaster against the blank, beige walls like colored cobwebs that ran down from the center of the living room, down the halls, excluding the darkness from entering the hallways or even the stairs.  

   Resting motionless in the corner of the room, alongside the table long bay window, the bright vivid white lights poked through the evergreen leaves like a thousand radiating stars in the pitch black sky. 

    Against the opposite wall of the room, the tattered sandy yellow three seated couch stands motionless, but upright on its four wooden legs that curl to the ends. 

    In the center of the floor, a little girl appears no older than four, placidly sits on her bottom with her legs crossed over one another. A river of chestnut brown cascading locks flow down her spleen, her bangs long enough to tickle her nose, so she gently tucks them behind her big ears. By her side, a little boy, no older than three I presume.