The Void

Chapter Four. Shielded from the Cold.

Warmth assaults my senses, it cloaks every inch of my exhausted limbs, I still don't know how long I spent on the cold concrete floor of the dungeon, but I missed my bed, the comfort of hiding there more than words can comprehend. People always say don't spend your life in your bed, that it forms bad habits but truthfully, I have always felt like I've never spent enough time there.

I can never stay down long enough to relish in it because life has never waited for me to rest, to heal either. It's why the hospital was so concerned about my vision, because if I ended up blind then they knew I'd spiral. Unable to provide for myself or Monica I wouldn't adapt like anyone else, I'd crumble.

They saw me as breakable, fragile, it was only logical when I ended up in their care so often. I couldn't let myself be a burden tot Monica when she was already drowning under the weight of caring for other people.

My skin is clammy, the cocoon of warmth has made perspiration break out along my skin and every inch of my body tingles as I come back to the living. Begrudgingly. The dreams that follow my concussions are always horrific, but the bone deep ache that follows this particularly awful one doesn't diminish the more I wake. I can feel the lull of sleep pulling at the edges of my mind, desperate to slide me back into the place of nothingness that I had been thrust from, but the sound of murmured voices stops me.

The chatter that had pulled me from my recovery, Monica, I had thought I left the hospital but perhaps that was just a desire that I never fulfilled. If they called her then something is very, very wrong with me this time. I can't feel the ache at my side from where my flesh was ripped open, the searing of my broken wrist, it's all gone.

I try to stretch out my tired muscles, letting them know I'm awake but my body feels heavy, like I have rolled myself underneath all the blankets and now I'm trapped within the tangles of fabric. Every part of me yearns to be left alone, but a hand smooths across my forehead, and I know Mon is waking me up for a reason.

I'm not graced with her voice as fingers slide against my temple, "Evelyn" It's her. "Come on, you need to wake up now"

Vague flickers of my nightmare cling to the edge of my mind, trying to claw their way back to the front of my mind, like violent reminders of an almost trip to the afterlife. It's disorientating as they flare to life more vibrantly instead of fading away, a groan breaches my lips as the world spins behind closed lids.

"Come on, you need to wake up" The voice repeats, tugging the blanket from my shoulder and letting the cold air prick at my right shoulder. "You're safe now"

You're safe now.

A prickle of recognition rushes goosebumps along my body, why would Mon say something like that? She wouldn't. I'm not in the hospital and Mon isn't pulling me back to her, the nightmare I had claimed isn't going to recede. My eyes sting as I pull my heavy eyelids open, a head of burgundy curls is the first thing I see, chocolate eyes follow and the drawn brows that line the worried expression Selena holds.

It's the successful blow against my foggy mind, I shift in confusion, the bed behind me moves with it and the warmth of another person's body breathes evenly against my back. Panic claws up my throat, I jolt, throwing myself away from them and rolling across the bed in a mess of limbs and blankets.

It wasn't a concussion induced nightmare, it's my nightmare of a reality.

"Don't come near me" I pant, hand outstretched as Selena's quick steps toward me falter. The ache in my body throbs dully, but the array of injuries I had acquired are absent from pale skin.

Selena was good to me; I didn't trust her intentions, but she was gentle, and she got me out of the Ball. Had the blonde man scoop me from the floor and stole me from Death's clutches once again. Even after I begged her, to let me go. Pain flares from the centre of my chest, spreads down my fingertips until I can barely breath under the feeling.