Autumn Silence (On Hold)

Chapter Four

Pain swells inside my head. The fluorescent hospital lights sting my eyes, breaking through the fog inside my mind. Bold tubes and thin wires cover my frail body. Sweat trickles down my forehead and dampens my neck. My blond hair sticks to my jaw and clings to my face.

My mind swirls with the remnants of the nightmare. Groaning I tilt my face into the thin, musty pillow. Tears sting my eyes and roll slowly down my cheeks.

"Amy?" Mike's voice is calm and soothing. My glassy eyes flutter open. They skip slowly over him. I curl onto my back, pain shooting through my leg. Desperately I try not to wince but my composure crumbles. Mike's gaze becomes gentle, "Hay it's OK." He drags a cheap plastic chair over to the side of the hospital bed.

"I'm fine," I choke. Mike drops into the seat and leans against the metal railing winding its way around the bed.

"Amy," he sighs heavily, brushing a strand of my tangled hair out of my face.

"The stitches hurt," I shift uncomfortably.

"You were screaming," Mike mutters.

My eyes flicker over the white washed walls. Flowers clutter the tiny dresser. They're dull, watery sent downs out the smell of medication and cleaning agents. "I keep having nightmares," I admit, tilting my head away from him. I burry my face into the flimsy pillow.

"It'll get better," Mike murmurs.

"He's still out there," I choke.

"He's one of the most wanted men in the country. They'll catch him," Mike says.

He smooths his hand over my hair, "Are you feeling OK?"

"The stitches hurt," I whimper, tilting my head into the palm of his hand. He hovers over me, his lips lingering over my skin. Gently he kisses my forehead. His lips are warm against my clammy skin.

Anxiety tightens inside my chest, stealing my breath. A uncertain fear trickles through me. "Mike," I gasp, pushing him away carefully.

He frowns and his green eyes flicker over me. "What's wrong?"

I shake my head weakly, "I'm fine...just tired." Concern flecks Mike's eyes. "It's probably all the medication," I murmur. Mike nods and runs his hand over my hair.

A thin woman clears her throat. Mike glances over his shoulder, his hand tearing away from me. The woman has shortly cropped, silvery-blond hair. Her grey eyes are soft and round. She has high, hollow cheeks and a distinct jaw. Her dark lips pull into a smile, "I'm Dr. Venice." Awkwardly I prop myself up on my elbows. Pain ripples through my chest, spreading over my torso.

Mike hesitates, standing up and hovering by the bedside. Dr. Venice looks him up and down before walking over to me. "I'll be your counsellor," she says sweetly.

"I'll see you late," Mike breathes, burying his hands into the pockets of his jeans. I force a slight smile and watch him leave the room.

"How're you feeling?" she asks gently. I fall limply back down against the pillow.

"A little sore," I admit. The corner of her lipstick coated lips pull into a slight smile.

"Are you sleeping OK?" she perches on the plastic chair. My eyes drift away from her, avoiding her gaze.

"I keep having nightmares," my voice is quiet and husky.

She folds one leg over the other and tilts her head. Her gaze becomes sympathetic, "That'll pass after a while." I nod quietly. "Are you eating alright?" she asks.

"Um...yeah," I murmur.

"Have you been talking to people, socializing OK?" her voice is prying, tenderly coaxing answers out of.