The Devil's Son ✔

Mirage

ELIZABETH

The pounding in my head reminded me of the waves, it ebbed and flowed familiarly. And somehow the sound and smell of the ocean reached my nostrils. Greedily trying to remember the memory that was just out of my grasp, I inhaled deeply.

I coughed and a beeping reached my ears, soon coupled with a voice of concern, 'Elizabeth? Elizabeth, baby, can you hear me?'

My eyes felt dry and heavy but when I opened them, my father's face swam into view. He looked horrible. He was unshaven and the reds under his eyes suggested a decent amount of crying with no sleep. The dress shirt he was wearing was crumpled and his fingers were wrapped around my forearm – dirt under his fingernails.

'Dad?' I whispered hoarsely, the talking hurt my throat but I tried to conjure up a smile for the distraught looking man, 'Where am I?'

'Thank God you're alright,' he whispered, his fingers wrapping tightly around arm as he touched his forehead to my fingers, mumbling soft 'thank you's' to my skin like prayers.

It turned out I was in the hospital and had been in a coma for nearly a week. For some reason, I had taken a trip to Washington – although I did not remember why – and I had been involved in a traffic accident. The doctors said it was normal that my memories were iffy, being hit by a truck tended to cause some form of concussion.

'I think you went to find your aunt Maria,' father had said as he brought me another cup of tea from the hospital cafeteria, 'It's really my fault for not maintaining contact with your...' he inhaled, 'mother's side of the family'.

☠☜◊✙◊☞☠

As my stay at the hospital grew to a close I wondered why I had gone to Washington in the first place. There seemed to be a gigantic gap in my memory and the last thing I was certain of that I remembered was vague – shifted into a puddle of different timelines merged together.

I remembered falling into the water, a cottage by the sea, snippets of a fireplace and the feeling of light burning upon my skin. There was something missing in all of these memories, and I had the inkling that it would be the only thing that would make everything fall into its place again.

Aunt Maria eventually came to visit, she didn't say much – per usual – and just smiled when the doctors said I was fine.

'You be careful, young lady,' she had said when she pulled on her coat to leave. There was a serious undercurrent to her voice that I didn't quite grasp, as if the sentence had an add on that was only voiced inside her head.

As father and her exchanged hugs and she moved towards the door I called out, 'Aunt Maria,' she turned to look at me, her expression guarded, 'do you know why I was in Washington?'

For a brief moment I felt the tension heighten before she gave me a short shake of the head and a smile that did not reach her eyes, 'I have no idea, my child'.

☠☜◊✙◊☞☠

I was back just in time for the last two months of the semester, enough to graduate on time and as I walked through the hallways I couldn't help but feel like something had changed. It was subtle but I felt as if everyone seemed less cohesive and lost with their lives, as if we were all missing something that was supposed to be there.

Everyone had been kind since my return, asking me if it were ok and if I needed help with catching up. Of course, some curious questions arose such as: did you see a light? How did it feel when you got hit? And the usual snarky comment from Trinity Roman: was God hot?