An Angel in the Dark

Chapter 4

Melanie

“Poor girl,” I heard a soft voice whisper through the fog that was my mind. This was a new voice, a voice I didn’t recognize. The voice quivered, and seemed to be afraid. It was good to have someone else who was afraid around, even if they didn’t know I was fully there. I was the pearl, and I was enclosed in the shell that refused to open. Now I just needed someone to drop the shell and let the pearl fall out… My heart clenched with hope. She was just like me, afraid. Maybe this person would save me. Maybe I could go home!

“Save me! Please!” I attempted to call out, but the words didn’t get any farther than my mind.

“I know, I know,” I heard the more familiar voice of the woman called Lydia. As her footsteps grew fainter, I could tell she was gone. I paid very close attention, and I could discern that there was only one pair of footsteps walking away. So did that mean the girl with the voice I didn’t recognize was still there? What was she doing there alone? Maybe she really was there to save me. The bed vibrated and I heard the screech of a stool against a hard floor.

“Hi, Melanie,” the voice, filled with kindness, was much closer now, and it filled me with the warmth the thin sheet draped over me couldn’t give. A shaky, sweaty hand grabbed mine and squeezed. I longed to squeeze back, to tell her that I was here, that I had heard every word, felt her hand. I couldn’t even manage a twitch. “I’m Darcy.”

So that was her name. Darcy. That was a pretty name. I smiled inside my head. Maybe I’d made a new friend and I didn’t have to be so lonely anymore.

            “Do you know how you got here, Melanie?” Darcy whispered.

            No, I didn’t, and I was grateful that she had brought it up. Since I had first been stuck in this shell, I had wondered exactly how I had gotten stuck in this mess. The curiosity had been eating me alive. Well, now I was going to find out. Finally, the answer to the question I hadn’t been able to ask. I barely knew Darcy, but I already liked her.

            “You were at gymnastics practice,” she continued, her uneven voice more of a whisper than it was when she had first spoken. It was encased in bitterness, as if she already knew and cared about me. I was a good feeling, knowing that somebody cares about you. “You and your friend were competing to see who could do the highest back flip, and you something went wrong and you fell mid-air. You hit your head pretty badly, and now you’re in a coma,” Her voice shook. “Like you can hear what I’m saying anyway…”

             “I can, I can hear!” I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs.

            She dropped her hand, and mine hung limply from the side of the bed. Her footsteps were soft as she walked away, so quiet you could barely hear them.

            A coma. So it was a coma. Was there hope for me after all, then? I would just have to keep my ears open.