Wide Asleep

Chapter Sixteen: Revelation

Unknown Date
Unknown Time
True Sean's P.O.V.

I've been meaning to catch up.
On sleep.
On work.

On life.

But it seems as if my plug has been pulled, as of late.

We've been waiting oh so patiently for her.

The surgery went wrong in almost every way possible.

But...

Being as weak as she was, we're surprised she even survived.

Felix and Mark are fast asleep across the room, leant against one another in their weakened states. Amy has gone home for the day to do laundry for the three of us, Marzia accompanying her and Pamela. They have hope, a hope I wish was instilled in my own heart.

It's been three months, and the most Charlotte has done is kept breathing.

Barely.

I hold her limp fingers between my own, as I have since I woke up this morning. She's weak, and she needs all the strength she can get to come out of this coma.

I reach a cautious, shaking hand up to caress her warm cheek, refusing to look up any farther than her cherubic facial features. Her hair is struggling to grow back, fried to nothing but a bloodied scalp from both her surgery and the medicines they are pumping through her, to keep the cancer at bay. Her body has shut down almost completely since her immune system is so weak, to keep the illness from spreading.

We all just hope she can pull through.

And if she does, something tells me to keep her close. This poor girl... I can't let anything else bad happen to her.

I've been talking to her.

Whenever I get the chance, I speak words of kindness and courage to her, hoping that, somewhere inside, she knows we're still here.

But she's still so far gone.

Charlotte's P.O.V.

I've run for what feels like weeks. The voice is fading, growing at some points beforehand. I've heard the worst, I've heard the best.

But I know what is going on.

After my grand mal seizure at the pumpkin patch, I received a successful surgery to remove a cancerous tumor on my brain. However, one or both of two variables are holding me back.

Number one.

My immune system is terribly weak from all the trauma I've experienced throughout my life, and my physical body had shut down, leaving me entrapped in my own fictional world of mere thought; a daydream.

Number two.

I have slipped into what would've been a brief coma, if it weren't for a dark entity of malicious intent holding me back, making me to believe I were in a true dimension, one of dreams come true. One of deceit, one of passionately empty love.

One of betrayal.

I haven't stopped moving for three nights, four days. If I were to stop, I know I would be too exhausted to move on. I can't give up now; he is waiting for me.

Time passes quickly enough to break the sound barrier, figuratively. Before I know it, it's most likely been more than a week.

I can't run anymore.

I stumble over every branch and rock my feet can find, my shoes having been left behind forever ago.

I finally collapse, my body and mind falling limp. My head comes into contact with something blunt, deeming me immediately unconscious.