After the Fire

A scene from Forever Sixteen.

     Tiny as she was, the girl was dead weight in Ryland's arms and he was beginning to tire. He glanced down at her, her usually pale face was turning a deathly pale blue. When he was sure they were far enough away from the burning hospital, he collapsed onto a grassy lawn in front of a store whose darkened windows showed it was closed. He cradled her in his arms with her body half lying in the grass, half leaning limply against his chest as he checked her vitals. He could feel no breath at all coming from her cold lips and her pulse was so faint he couldn't be sure if he wasn't entirely imagining it. He gave a low moan as he watched her.  

     He was silly to think she'd wake up. She hadn't woken up in 10 years and even if she had been close to waking up the past few weeks, she was weak. He couldn't expect her to have survived all the smoke. No. There was no use trying to save her. She was gone.... Ryland's cheeks were suddenly wet. How had that happened. Don't be stupid. Ryland scolded himself, people die all the time, this is no different.  

    He forced himself to look away from the girl, watching people running frantically across the streets, sirens blaring and the black smoke billowing up into the gray sky. Ryland shifted position, then something tugged his sleeve. 

   The girl... 

    Sure enough, her slender fingers were unmistakably curled into the fabric of his jacket and they had not been a second ago. 

    Desperately grabbing for even the slightest hope, Ryland laid the girl flat on her back in the grass, one of hands supporting her head. Gently he set his mouth against hers and breathed in and then out. In and then out. Just as he's done numerous times as a paramedic. 

    Sitting back for a moment, he inhaled sharply. Her eyes were open. Two terrified brown eyes were staring back at him. The girl tried frantically to breath, gasping for air, but within a few seconds her eyes rolled back her head once again. After giving her CPR twice more, Ryland was finally able to make the girl breath on her own. Supported by Ryland's arms she struggled to sit upright, coughing and choking from all the smoke she'd inhaled.

     And Ryland, although almost giddy with relief that she was alive, and even more impossibly, awake, was flustered as to what he would say to her now that she was awake. Though he had spent almost the past year trying to wake up the mysterious girl, now that she was really awake, he was suddenly flooded with doubt, I don't even know who she is.. What she's like.. Who's she going to remember.. She doesn't know me.. 

     Ryland's thoughts were interrupted as the girl tried to speak, her voice coming out horse and intelligible and ending in a fit of coughing. When she had regained her breath, she tried again, speaking more forcefully this time, her melodic voice suddenly bursting out after years of imprisonment. "What the hell happened?!" 

     Ryland was too shocked to say anything for a moment. She had a distinct accent he'd never heard before, so very different from himself and all the people he'd ever met. Then, recovering himself, he responded slowly, trying to be calm.

"Well there was a fire in the hospital.. I had to get you out... They're still trying to get the fire under control."

The girl just nodded grimly.

"Um.." Ryland wasn't sure how to ask, but he had to know, "what's your name?"

The girl stared at him for a moment, then spoke again with effort, it was clear speech was still difficult for her, "I'm Tessa."

Ryland smiled, "Unique name! I'm.."

The girl named Tessa cut him off, "Ryland... Right?"

"Yeah...I'm Ryland... How.." Ryland looked at her in surprise, "you could hear me, couldn't you?"

Tessa smiled for the first time, it made her look different..beautiful really...

"Yeah... I heard.. Well.. Everything."

Ryland's face flushed.

"You mean..everything... Like.. Everything?" Ryland shifted his eyes uncomfortably, "like this whole last year? Or just recently?"

Tessa frowned, "A whole year? I hadn't realized it had been so long since you first came..." She stopped to gasp for air, "but yes... I've heard everything since I first was put in this coma."

Torture...

Hello! I know I haven't posted in ages, I rarely have time to write during the school year, but here's a little snippet... the only thing I've written since school started. It's rather dark... its from a book called A Light in the Dark, and is based mostly off of nightmares.

Torture…

She is taken into a building and waits in reception area. It’s dark and cold and not at all pleasant. Soon her name is called.. “Morgan Greene.” She doesn’t want to go, but she is taken back through the doors, led down a narrow hall, and into a small room. The door closes behind her and she hears a click as it is locked. It’s a cold room, tile floors, cold white walls, metal counters with evil looking metallic instruments and syringes and shiny needles lying in perfect rows.. waiting to be used. The room is dimly lit and has lots of high-tech computers and screens on long metal arms attached to the wall, and there is a cushioned table for a patient to lay on in the middle. Why is she here? They said they just wanted to talk to her….

                                                   

Shivers run down her spine.

Click. The door opens and a Man enters. He tells her to sit down on the cushioned table and warily she obeys. “Tell me, tell me everything about you. All of your deep dark secrets.”  The Man’s cold voice pierces through her head, as he stares at her sardonically with eyes that don’t quite seem human somehow. She stares back, remaining silent. The Man then tells her to close her eyes. She stares, distrusting him, then… slowly.. blinks. Something cold is clamped onto her arm. Panicking, she struggles but is unable to move, her muscles somehow forced to remain limp.

She is forced to lie down, her back against the table and struggling to open her eyes, she catches glimpse of the Man’s calm, evil face as he fastens cold metal bindings around her neck, waist, around her legs just above the knee, her ankles, upper arms and lastly, her wrists. His cold fingers trace across her skin, across her shoulders, and mark an X on her neck with a dull fingernail. Then he removes a stretchy band from her arm. Instantly her muscles are free and she twists violently, but stops with a gasp as the razor sharp metal fastenings tear into her skin. She feels sick as hot blood trickles down her stomach neck and wrists. As a last resort she gives a piercing shriek, but the Man only chuckles. “It’s no use wasting your breath sweetheart, no one can hear you. This room is sound proof.” Then he refastens the stretchy band back on her arm, though not as tightly this time. She can still open her eyes and move slightly, however she is significantly weakened now.

“Now,” says the Man, “Talk to me. Tell me everything!”

She hisses back through clenched teeth,  “NO!”

“Tsk tsk.” The Man shakes his head in mock sadness, drawing a long needle from the table, and after examining her arm for a moment, touches it gently to her upper arm. Unable to help her self, she flinches. Needles have always been her worse fear. She hated them. The Man stares with a look of sickening calm pleasure straight into her terrified eyes…

The needle pierces her skin.

As a searing jab of pain shoots up her arm, she fights back a scream, defiantly remaining silent.

The Man releases his grip for a moment and raises his eyebrows mockingly. “Not even a whimper? Hmm this is a brave one.”

She clenches her teeth and glares back.

The Man shrugs and forces the needle deep into her flesh, leaving it there as she writhes in agony, the metal bands continuing to dig deeper into her skin.

Again he asks his question. Again she shouts her defiant answer, “NO!”

And again and again he drives the long needles into her skin. It is pain worse than anything she’s ever felt, but she still she refuses to give in. Not even a single scream or cry for mercy escapes her lips. And at length her endurance seems to frustrate the Man, a scowl starts to form on his previously clam face. She notices this and drawing strength from his frustration, she gives a mocking smile, “There is only one person on earth who I trust with my secrets. It’s not you and I will never, ever tell you my secrets!”

The Man’s face is contorted with fury as he slaps her across the face, making black spots dance before her eyes and preventing her from saying anything else.

“So you’re rather proud of yourself aren’t you? Think you’re so brave and strong you little bitch.. well I’m not done with you yet, oh no. Now the fun begins.” With a demonic smile the man stands over her. Her heart pounds with dread as he slides his cold hand up her shirt, and pulling it up, he exposes her white stomach. He grabs a long gleaming knife from the table and setting it against her stomach, rips across in a quick motion. She lets out a faint moan as the blade slices deeply into her skin, and tears begin to run down her cheeks.

“TELL ME!” The Man demands.

The pain is ten times worse than the needles, but still she clenches her teeth and shakes her head violently.

He slashes across her stomach again and again til her whole abdomen is lacerated; blood dripping everywhere.

Again he poses his question and again he is refused.

Now he moves to her wrists, removing the stretchy band, but even without it she is too weak to offer much resistance. He slices lengthwise down her arm, and unable to help herself she screams.

“Ready to talk?” The Man smiles hopefully.

“NEVER!” She screams back, unable to maintain any control over her emotions any longer, the pain is too intense.

He slices deeper, still she screams, “Never!”

Blood is flowing freely, dripping to the floor, covering her and covering the Man’s hands. He doesn’t seem to care. She is growing weaker by the moment, her skin deathly white; she would not last much longer now. Her anguished screams fill the room. And still he cuts deeper.

The pain is too much; she cannot stand it any longer. She gave one last imploring cry, “Jesus, Mary, Joseph save me!”

Something is grabbing her wrists, shaking her.

“Morgan! Morgan wake up!”

Suddenly her eyes flew open and it was Jake leaning over her as she lay next to him in bed, her whole body trembling. He was holding her hands, a look of utmost concern on his face. “Morgan.. are you okay? What happened? Another bad dream?”

Morgan could only nod as she sobbed with relief, hugging Jake tightly and hiding her face in his shoulder. He stroked her hair gently. “I woke up and you were screaming and thrashing.. are you sure you’re ok?”

“It was horrible.” Morgan whispered back, shivering.

“I’m sorry..” Jake kissed her and pulled the blankets back up around her. Cuddling up against him with her head resting on his chest, his arms holding her, and her arms protectively around the baby in her ever growing belly, Morgan felt safe and slowly drifted back to sleep.