Saving Death

Chapter 9

Blood rushed in my ears, deafening me as I stared down at her, her golden-brown hair disarrayed on the pillow around her face and her hands clasped neatly together on her rib cage. She could have been asleep, but the pallor of her face said otherwise. She looked like my mum, but there was none of the energy or passion that was once there. She was a stranger.

            Sadness gripped at my guts as I reached out and took her cold, white hand in mine. It felt light, too light. "Mum?" I whispered. Her eyes fluttered open and my heart leapt at the prospect of looking into those eyes that made me feel loved and safe; those eyes that looked just like mine. Although, instead of that hazel gaze that warmed my very soul, I found myself looking into hollow black pupils. My heart turned to ice, I flew backwards and found myself sitting bolt upright in a sterile bed.

"Mum?" I said, glancing around my surroundings. It felt like she was still there—but she wasn't. I was alone, sitting on a bed made up with crisp white sheets, in a cubicle cordoned off by rough, blue curtains. I felt the sting of disinfectant burn the inside of my nose, and a cry escaped from my mouth as the night before came flooding back and I realised where I was. Looking wildly about, my heart rate elevated.

I ripped back the cold white linen from my knees, revealing a hospital gown, and my feet hit the chilly floor as I swung my legs from the bed. My head swam as I stood up, and I stumbled forwards, grappling at the curtains. I was hardly aware of my shock as they flashed apart, revealing a short, round nurse with stern blue eyes.

"Oh, no, you don't," she said, her hands outstretched. "Back in bed, young lady."

Her stern exterior blocked my exit. "I can't," I whimpered, feeling sickness bubbling in the pit of my stomach. The smell of this place set me on edge and I had to get out before my body shut down completely. I could already feel my heart beat threatening to shatter my ribs, but as I side stepped the nurse and made a desperate play for freedom, I stumbled into someone else.

"Ava?"

My dad's face was full of concern as he grasped my upper arms. "Hey... Hey, Ava. Calm down," he said. Tears pooled in my eyes and my heart pounded painfully in my chest. I didn't want to be in here. People died in hospitals. She had died in hospital. I had almost died.

"Come on, Ava, honey." The nurse's voice was patient and kind, but I couldn't stop. My throat was constricting, I couldn't breathe, but nobody was listening. I was like a caged bird, unable to stretch my wings in order to escape. I wasn't about to give up.

Pushing hard against my dad's grip, I ran towards the door to the ward, reaching it with a thud and pulling hard on the handle. It shuddered under my protests, but as I yanked hard on it for the third time, I found myself undeniably held captive. That's when my determination slipped.

"Dad. Please," I pleaded, turning to him. I could feel the burn in my lungs as I continued to breathe around the lump now lodged in my throat.

"Ava..." His voice was soft as he edged towards me, with a pained look on his face. "You can't leave just yet, love—"

"N-no," I stammered, feeling my legs wobble. I slid down the door into a heap on the floor and sobbed hard, the pain stinging my throat. It was all too much—the dream, the smell, the hospital, being trapped—nobody seemed to understand.

"I can't breathe," I whispered, between rasping breaths.

The nurse knelt down in front of me so she was eye level with me. "Ava, honey, look at me."

I looked into her concerned eyes.

"Just take deep breaths in through your mouth and out through your nose, okay? Nice and steady..."