Peaches

Thirty Four

Gravity felt like heavy weights sinking me through what felt like the hollow layers of the core of the earth. The pull wouldn't slow, growing heavier and stronger. My lungs felt empty, struggling with every shallow reach for a breath. It was hot one second, and deathly cold the next. This dry chill would never die down as my aching body fell into oblivion.

It was a light feeling. Sinking in nothingness, an unstoppable force ripping me through the quiet cold still. Time didn't exist, only the slow rush of falling, powerless, with nothing to crumble into.

Emptiness.

All that I had- my only thought was the ache in my chest as it sucked in every last bit of life it could. I could hear it, the sound of my struggle shaking down in my ribs as each breath grew heavier. I was in a reality of my own, a prisoner of the sleep that trapped my soul. This was dying.

Had I already died?

I wanted to panic, to rage, and fight against whatever kind of gelatin hell this was. I didn't want to die. Not this way. Already gutted open with this rotten sorrow.

I don't want to be alone like this.

Am I?

Is she still with me?

There was no explanation for what I felt, but she was with me. Like a memory that never fades. Something you can see clear as day, with all the details and color. On repeat in my mind, sitting warm in my gut like one of her sweet smiles. It was all her.

For a moment, I felt overwhelmed with comfort. She was with me, what more did I need now? That relief surrounded me, in whatever this gel-like place was, and then it stopped. Everything did.

The pain was back. Deep and unforgiving pain.

Far down in my ribs, I felt my heart jump wildly, jolting with a sudden voltage of power. Like I touched a lightning rod in a crazy storm, I could feel the sting of being electrocuted. I was staring at the grimey brick walls.

I was gasping, choking on the blood that felt like a pool in the back of my throat. My arms flailed around, reaching for anything to grasp onto as life slammed into me like a truck on a highway. "Can't breathe-"

"Oi!" An unfamiliar voice grunted, turning me over onto my side so I could cough the shit out. "Calm down. You have to leave."

"Uh?" I rasped, gripping the wet fabric of my shirt that clung to my cold chest. "The fuck is-"

"Do not die." Fully withdrawn and bored, he squatted beside me and slapped my cheek, bringing me back to attention. "Take her out of here."

"Who are you?" I struggled with my words, looking down at my blood-stained pants. The knife was out.

"I clean the mess, and you leave. No more questions."

"You shot me with adrenaline-" I rolled to my back, grinding my teeth through the agony. My heart was racing out of my chest, aching deep with every loud pump. Like a giant muscle cramp, twisting and tightening until the deep burn touched bone. Over every limb, there was no forgiveness.

My fucking leg-

"The knife."

It was gone, removed from where it was stuck in my thigh. If it wasn't for the full stain of blood spanning the entire leg of my jeans, you wouldn't've known there were any wounds.

But God damn.

"It is not adrenaline, it is ammonia. The knife evidence, it will not be returned. You were lucky enough. I secured a gauze wrap around the deepest of incisions to compress the site. Meaning, I have bought you time."