Abandonment

{Twenty} The Finale

Everything was cold.

That was all I could feel—the coldness. I couldn't feel anything else, like the ground I knew I was lying on the bullet still inside my stomach. The panic had long since subsided. All the awaited me was the inevitable shroud of death. I thought it had already happened, but the throbbing in my middle woke me out of my stupor.

It was truly a cruel thing, death.

Rather than just taking me once and for all, I lay there suffering—on the brink but not quite fully ready. Every time I would feel like it was my time, the pain would return and jar me back into life.

I was alone, crying and praying I would just die already. The pain was too much. Yes, I wanted to live, but I couldn't take it anymore.

I blacked out again for a little bit and the pain returned, causing me to cry out weakly. In my head, the scream was much louder than what my ears heard.

"Shh," someone soothed, and the sound was so unexpected I jerked my body in response.

Well, I tried.

My sudden movement was met with much criticism. "Try not to move, darlin'," a feminine voice commanded softly. "We've much work to do."

I whimpered as cloth was gently pressed against my face, trying to turn away.

"This will help with the pain, dear," a male voice assured.

Whatever was on that cloth, though, my body disagreed with it strongly and began convulsing violently.

Arms held me down, leather was shoved into my mouth. I wasn't sure how I processed it. But in an instant it all stopped and the darkness returned.

At last, it had come for me.

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I was in and out of consciousness for a while after that. How long, though, I was unsure. It was agony. Staying alive was torture. But voices kept telling me to hang in there—I was going to live and they were going to save me.

To trust them.

One said they loved me.

But living was against my will.

My body was being poked and prodded, injected with medicines that kept my adrenaline going. On those times, I do remember screaming because all I could feel was my torn flesh. It felt like it was being further torn apart at some points. That had been the worst. I wished they would just leave me alone.

"What now, doctor?" a voice questioned, sounding strained.

"Now all there's left to do is wait," another voice answered. "She could go either way. Her body's been through a great deal of trauma and she's lost a lot of blood."

"Cap...?" I slurred, commanding my body to move—to sit up or open my eyes, anything!

Warm hands grasped my cold, clammy ones. "I'm here." The sound of his voice filled my soul. "I'm here, darlin'. I ain't goin' anywhere. I promise. I'll never leave ya again."

Hearing him...it was the only medicine I needed. I hoped my face obeyed my need to smile. I wanted to tell him more—to tell him I loved him, that I was glad he was alive. But just saying his name had caused all the energy I possessed and I was passing out within seconds.

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My first time being truly lucid, I screamed until my throat was on fire. I screamed for all the times my body refused to let me scream—for all the time I had felt trapped in my own body.