Chapter 21

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Bright lights flicker all around me, blinding me with a piercing blue color. I cringe away instinctively, my breathing picking up pace and my heart skipping a beat as my eyes scan the darkness in scared, frantic movements. I take a small step back, seeing nothing around but the light and dark, the blinding flashes contrasting heavily with the surrounding black air.

Where am I?

A sour flavor seems to settle on my tongue, bitter and harsh and making my mouth feel dry. I swallow hard once, twice, the thick saliva seeming to scrape my throat on the way down, iron instantly mixing with the green.

Green.

I take another step backward, this time stumbling over something and falling. I scramble back in the dark, taking vague notice that the ground is a smooth surface against the palms of my hands. Another burst of light illuminates the encompassing area once more and I catch a glimpse of whatever it is that I tripped over. Just as quick as the light shone, my breathing stops completely and panic sets in the pit of my stomach.

A body is strewn out on the hard ground, a boy no older than fourteen. His lanky figure is stretched out, his chest pressed flat against the black shadows of the floor while his arms are twisted up at an awkward angle, one elbow straight up while the other arm is raised out horizontally above his head. His light brown hair hangs in scraggly locks across his face and down to the bottom of his chin. Through the flickering bursts of burning blue light, I can make out the distinct marks on his neck. Bruises, deep purple in color, mixed with the raw red skin where the rope once held his slim body above the ground. His eyes are framed with black glasses, their hazel shimmering in the gleam, wide and staring directly at me.

I feel my mouth open, the panic swallowing me whole as I begin screaming at the top of my battered lungs...

I shoot upright in bed, a thin layer of sweat beading on my forehead and dampening the sheets that tangle around my legs. My breathing is coming in short gasps and the monitor to my right is alerting me to the sudden increase in my heartbeat, an effect of the night terror.

It was just a dream... I repeat the words to myself, even biting down hard enough on my lip to draw blood, needing to feel the pain to know it's true. It was just a dream...

Then how the hell did it feel so real? The panic, the darkness, it all felt so real. But more than that, it felt familiar. It didn't make sense to me, but there was a sense of nostalgia that came with seeing the younger boy's broken and dead body. His face... God, his face, warped with such pleading horror and desperation, seemed familiar. 

I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, squeezing my eyes shut only to flinch away from the images that assault me. With my eyes closed, I see him. The bruises, the lifelessness, the blank stare, those eyes. It haunts me and I find myself glancing nervously around the room, searching the shadows for any sign of the nightmarish figure.

The only sound in the empty space is the uneven rise and fall of my chest, my breathing coming in short pants, and the consistent beeping of the heart monitor. After only a few seconds, the beeping becomes too loud in my ears and I rip the white clippy thingy away from my finger, the monitor flat-lining instead. I pull my legs up to my chest and let my head fall forward onto my knees just as the heavy wooden door is pushed open, light flooding into the room. I don't bother to look up to see the nurse I know will be standing there. Amy I think is her name; The nurse that took over when Ray's shift ended.

I don't like her. I don't know why, really-- she seems nice enough-- but every time she comes in to check on me, I feel a ball of worry knotting in my stomach and making my jaw clench. Now, she stands in the doorway, watching me with displeasure, one hand on her hip. "Frank," She scolds as she comes to my bedside. She flicks on the lamp that sits to my left, illuminating the shadowed corners of the room and actually making me feel a little bit better. But when she finds the finger clamp and reaches out to grab my hand, I cringe away from her, wrapping my arms around my chest instead. Amy sighs. "Frank, this is the third time you've taken the heart monitor off. We need to keep you hooked up, at least for the night."

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