A Pocket Full of Posies (Book 2)

Chapter Twenty-Six

I'm not dreaming anymore. I'm not dead, either. My thoughts are still muddled, and my mind has a fog over it, but I'm awake. I'm alive. I'm lying down on my back, on something soft. I think it's Connor's sofa. Nothing else is this comfortable. It's so comfortable. The banished spirits have gone. I've not heard them since I managed to break one of the handcuffs. They've gone. They're not even trying to speak to me anymore. I go to turn on my side, but my muscles aren't listening.

"Felix? Hey," someone says from above me. I don't think it's a spirit.

"Hey," I say back, but it's more of a reflex.

Why can't I turn on my side? My head is full, like it's clogged. I can barely feel my body it's so light, but I can't move it. Why can't I move it? I try again, using all the energy I have, and finally, it works. I'm on my side. Sort of. This is really comfortable. I want to stay here. There's an airy laugh.

"Um, hello?"

I open my eyes, and gazing back at me is Carmen, all wavy hair and soft face and honey eyes. I guess I must be dreaming, after all. I can't focus on anything beyond Carmen. I can just see a lot of white.

"Hey," I say again. I wonder if I'll wake up if I close my eyes. "Goodnight."

"Oi, no!"

My eyes shoot back open, and I frown. I'm trying to wake up. Carmen is still there, and her eyes aren't moving from my face. I can't stop dreaming if she doesn't let me wake up.

"You've slept enough, come on."

"I'm trying to wake up," I argue.

"By closing your eyes?"

"Exactly."

Carmen laughs, but I don't understand what's funny. Real life Carmen makes way more sense than dream Carmen. Dream Carmen is prettier, but I shouldn't tell real life Carmen that. I'm still frowning as I shift my eyes from her. The whiteness is becoming less bright, and there's a window. It has blinds, and there's a framed picture next to it. There's beeping, the same beeping sound as before. Hang on, what? I'm in a room. It's not Connor's house. It's a--Is it a hospital room? Wait, am I awake? I'm already awake? I'm not dreaming?

I jolt up, except it's not really a jolt, it's more of an uncoordinated jerk because my body still isn't doing what I'm willing it to do.

"Whoa, slow down, slow down," Carmen demands. "Last thing you need right now is whiplash."

"You're real," I say without even realising I was thinking it.

She laughs again. It sounds good. God, it sounds good.

#

So it turns out I've been high on painkillers this whole time. Not dreaming, or dead. Just really, really high. Less high now, but still high. I'm pretty sure that's why I can't hear the banished voices. I'm also pretty sure that's why I've not seen Annabel once since I woke up. Carmen, Ava, Tom and Jamie are all here now, but I've not had a chance to ask after Annabel, or ask anything even half useful since I crashed back to reality because there's a doctor here who won't piss off.

Maybe that's a bit harsh. He's probably the reason I'm not dead. Yeah, probably a bit harsh. He keeps poking me and shining lights in my eyes, and he's asking me frustratingly easy questions. I know he's just checking I don't have any memory loss, which is really quite ironic when you consider the fact I've literally gained eight years worth of memories, but it's annoying.

He's just asked me for my date of birth when he moves on to the next question, and asks me who the US president is. That's just way too easy, so I tell him I know the president of Azerbaijan because I learned that once. I'm not sure if it's because he's asked all the questions he needed to, or because my Azerbaijan knowledge impressed him so much, but finally, the doctor leaves.