The Realm of Question

Chapter 2

Once roused to darkness, once to a light so bright I thought that my retinas had been gouged from their sockets, I clenched my eyelids shut to shield them from further harm. There were so many voices around me, Too many, all speaking at once in that same panic stricken tone. Shouting things like "Red Alert Zone 1" or "We need blood" or "Her pulse is failing" and that incessant whine just kept going. Then all of a sudden I heard all the voices stop, as if to take one solitary breath in solid unison. The whine had ceased and was replaced by a repetitive steady beep. I risked opening one eye squinting to keep out the blinding light. I was surrounded by people in white and green. Where am I now?! This must stop! This incessant questioning! And yet I know the same about this world of light and the green people, as the world of leaves and darkness. It became apparent then that I was still stuck in the realm of questions. The person closest to me held their fingers delicately to my wrist. She let out a relieved breath.

"She's alive," she said in a grave voice. Of course I am alive! I'm here aren't I?

"But how?" another asked. "She lost so much blood. It's almost impossible."

"Yes, almost, but not impossible," the woman closest to me muttered under her breath.

"Should we make the call to stop the alert?" a green man asked his eyes still wide.

"Yes, I think she's stable now," the same woman murmured, her wide eyes staring down at me in assessment.

"And the blood transfusions?" he asked.

"We don't have enough time to check her blood. Bring as much type "O blood" as you can."

She had yet to let go of my wrist and the beeping continued. A moving thing baring red liquid was pulled close to me and the odd people in green and white drew out the bag with the liquid and pulled it toward me. She held up my wrist and something shiny was thrust into it causing me to yelp. Every person looked toward me.

"Miss, it's okay. You're going to be okay." The woman's eyes were gentle, like that of a mother looking at her child when it had just fallen and bruised a knee. Maybe I was this woman's child?

"Begin the transfusion," mother-woman smiled at me. My veins were pulsing. Whatever was inbedded in my arm was making me dizzy. The room was moving and the bright lights were swirling.

"She can't take it! Pull it out! PULL IT OUT!" she screamed. The whining was back and my eyes were closing. The pulsing stopped and the pinching in my wrist was gone. "What are we going to do if she can't take the O blood? It's the universal donor! Is that even possible?" The woman was frazzled.

"Let's get the bleeding to stop first..." The man sounded so far away.

"She's awake, we'll have to put her under anesthesia." Something was placed over my face.

"Breath deeply. Stay calm miss, everything is fine." Why did everyone keep calling me Miss? Was that my name or something? Whoa, did the ground just shift? Uh, erm, I'm sleepy...

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I lifted one drowsy lid to find it was just light enough so I could see and just dark enough to sleep. Finally some sense of normalcy. Oh my goodness, the pain! The gripping, bone sawing pain! My stomach churned. I could feel the bile rise in my throat. I clawed at the white cover beneath me and I retched all over the floor. The bile was pure red and the smell was acrid. It looked just like the red liquid in those transparent bags. How extraordinarily odd¼ I released the fabric from between my fingers, my knuckles white with tension and rolled back into my prior position. My back hurt terribly. Had the flesh been ripped tendon by tendon from my vertebrae? If not, it felt that way.