Pt 2.
"What do you remember?"
“I remember being in the forest. Wandering around looking for something that had no business being in a forest. I was armed, but holding my weapon did not fill me with courage. In fact it seemed only a tiny stick of a threat compared to what I was searching for. I came into a clearing. A dell. You know the kind where imaginary creatures existed.”
“So why didn’t you follow your instincts?” The all too feminine voice seemed to trail in off out of nowhere.
“The only thing I really know is that a desire filled me. I had to know for sure. I had to verify what my mind had already decided,” Chris stretched his arms overhead and felt his ribs cracking.
“You probably shouldn’t do that just yet,” she said laying her hand on his forehead. “You’re still healing,”
“Interesting, I don’t recall being hurt,” Chris sighed and a familiar scent caused a kind of involuntary smile. “So what happened to me? I don’t seem to be in a hospital. In fact I seem to be in my own bed. I don’t have a girlfriend, and you sound far too young and calm to be my mother. Judging by how much my head hurts, I would have to say that some kind of concussion isn’t out of order. I also would like to think that if this is a hallucination,” Chris trailed off suddenly. “Quick say five random words.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I am trying to discern whether I am suffering from brain damage or not. And if I am how severe the impairment is. That and concentrating on your voice helps with the headache.” Chris sighed as the hand returned to his head. This time playing with his hair.
Purple. Life. Tattoo. Lizard. Real. Is that sufficient or were you looking for something more telling of who is sitting next to you? Something that I might accidentally give away about myself,” she said caressing his face.
Chris’s brow furrowed and then a grinned. She looked down the length of his body. His entire chest was a black and purple mass. His arms had faired a bit better. The cuts and scrapes had already almost healed. Tiny red lines were the only thing that remained. She picked up one of his hands and turned it slowly in hers. He had good hands. Strong hands. Thick calluses were apparent. And the fact that they were still soft took her by surprise.
“Purple. Tells me that it looks a lot worse than it feels. I don’t feel the numbing properties of any of the good painkillers. Life tells me that you are really worried about what was, or is, going to happen to me. Tattoo tells me that you have seen my tattoo, and while there is an amusing story behind the inception of its design. It says more about me than I would sometimes care too. Lizard. I honestly haven’t got a bloody clue. Mostly because I have been only talking to you for the last minute or so. I haven’t seen you yet because it’s friggin dark, and I’m pretty sure that if this isn’t a hallucination. That I am definitely dreaming. So I am going to remain asleep. As for real. I can only discern two things. One. That this is your subtle way of telling me that this is indeed happening. Two. That you exist. That you are indeed real,” Chris replied as the familiar sound of a Zippo filled his ears. “And if your going to smoke, would you mind lighting one for me. And if you are indeed a gentle soul, would you also put it in my hand. Seeing as I am in no mood to open my eyes yet.”
“Absolutely,” she said grabbing another and lighting it on hers. She put the cigarette in his waiting hand. “I am curious though. If you don’t have a girlfriend, and I am most certainly not your mom. Then why are you so reluctant to open your eyes. Now that you have obviously deduced that you aren’t dreaming. Furthermore, you haven’t answered my question.”
Chris took a long drag on the cigarette and tilted his head toward her. “Because I haven’t ruled out the possibility of hallucination. And if it is only an auditory hallucination at present I am fine with that. If I open my eyes though and it becomes a true hallucination then I am truly in the shit. That and life is just not that kind.” He said as the smoke trailed out of his mouth.
“What do you mean, life isn’t that kind?”
“Because I now have a picture of you in my head. And you cannot possibly be this interesting, have that voice, and look as good as you do in my head. No offense of course. Life just isn’t that kind,” Chris said as bitter laughter filled the room. “And my instincts were telling me to run. I just ignored them. It seemed the thing to do at the time,” he said the cigarette dangling from his lips.
“Well, I have one more question before you actually open your eyes,” She said the laughter leaving her voice. “What is the last thing you remember before waking up?”
Chris began to prop himself up on the bed and the pain began to surge through his body. It seemed as though every fiber of nerve tissue were becoming a rancorous melody of taunts. “Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch,” Chris said as he slowly let his weight settle back on the bed. He took a couple of breaths while the chorus dimmed. “Breathing hurts, my arms feel as though they were going to collapse under my weight. Then there is the headache,” he thought to himself. “I remember a gunshot, warmth running down my left side, feeling numb and peaceful,” Chris said turning his head towards her.
When Chris tried to open his eyes three things happened. The first was a tsunami of pain traveled down his left side. The second was the sharp sound of the woman catching her breath. The third was Chris laughing. This caused him even more pain. “What’s your name?”
She looked at Chris the pain written all over his body. An eyebrow raised as she thought to herself, “He must be in a catastrophic amount of pain. Yet he is trying to maintain a conversation.” “Strange,” she said.
“Your name is Strange,” Chris said attempting to hold back the laughter. This only served to cause him more pain. “Dammit,” He laughed holding his side.
“No. My name is Mariah, and you’re the one that is strange. Now you need to lay back down before you pass out,” she said grabbing the cigarette out of his mouth and put them both out. When she turned around Chris was starring at her face. He was smiling.
“I have never been so happy to be wrong,” Chris said.
“Glad to disappoint,” Mariah said through a smile. “Now get some rest. You’re going to need it. By this time tomorrow, you’re going to be very hungry.
“I remember being in the forest. Wandering around looking for something that had no business being in a forest. I was armed, but holding my weapon did not fill me with courage. In fact it seemed only a tiny stick of a threat compared to what I was searching for. I came into a clearing. A dell. You know the kind where imaginary creatures existed.”
“So why didn’t you follow your instincts?” The all too feminine voice seemed to trail in off out of nowhere.
“The only thing I really know is that a desire filled me. I had to know for sure. I had to verify what my mind had already decided,” Chris stretched his arms overhead and felt his ribs cracking.
“You probably shouldn’t do that just yet,” she said laying her hand on his forehead. “You’re still healing,”
“Interesting, I don’t recall being hurt,” Chris sighed and a familiar scent caused a kind of involuntary smile. “So what happened to me? I don’t seem to be in a hospital. In fact I seem to be in my own bed. I don’t have a girlfriend, and you sound far too young and calm to be my mother. Judging by how much my head hurts, I would have to say that some kind of concussion isn’t out of order. I also would like to think that if this is a hallucination,” Chris trailed off suddenly. “Quick say five random words.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I am trying to discern whether I am suffering from brain damage or not. And if I am how severe the impairment is. That and concentrating on your voice helps with the headache.” Chris sighed as the hand returned to his head. This time playing with his hair.
Purple. Life. Tattoo. Lizard. Real. Is that sufficient or were you looking for something more telling of who is sitting next to you? Something that I might accidentally give away about myself,” she said caressing his face.
Chris’s brow furrowed and then a grinned. She looked down the length of his body. His entire chest was a black and purple mass. His arms had faired a bit better. The cuts and scrapes had already almost healed. Tiny red lines were the only thing that remained. She picked up one of his hands and turned it slowly in hers. He had good hands. Strong hands. Thick calluses were apparent. And the fact that they were still soft took her by surprise.
“Purple. Tells me that it looks a lot worse than it feels. I don’t feel the numbing properties of any of the good painkillers. Life tells me that you are really worried about what was, or is, going to happen to me. Tattoo tells me that you have seen my tattoo, and while there is an amusing story behind the inception of its design. It says more about me than I would sometimes care too. Lizard. I honestly haven’t got a bloody clue. Mostly because I have been only talking to you for the last minute or so. I haven’t seen you yet because it’s friggin dark, and I’m pretty sure that if this isn’t a hallucination. That I am definitely dreaming. So I am going to remain asleep. As for real. I can only discern two things. One. That this is your subtle way of telling me that this is indeed happening. Two. That you exist. That you are indeed real,” Chris replied as the familiar sound of a Zippo filled his ears. “And if your going to smoke, would you mind lighting one for me. And if you are indeed a gentle soul, would you also put it in my hand. Seeing as I am in no mood to open my eyes yet.”
“Absolutely,” she said grabbing another and lighting it on hers. She put the cigarette in his waiting hand. “I am curious though. If you don’t have a girlfriend, and I am most certainly not your mom. Then why are you so reluctant to open your eyes. Now that you have obviously deduced that you aren’t dreaming. Furthermore, you haven’t answered my question.”
Chris took a long drag on the cigarette and tilted his head toward her. “Because I haven’t ruled out the possibility of hallucination. And if it is only an auditory hallucination at present I am fine with that. If I open my eyes though and it becomes a true hallucination then I am truly in the shit. That and life is just not that kind.” He said as the smoke trailed out of his mouth.
“What do you mean, life isn’t that kind?”
“Because I now have a picture of you in my head. And you cannot possibly be this interesting, have that voice, and look as good as you do in my head. No offense of course. Life just isn’t that kind,” Chris said as bitter laughter filled the room. “And my instincts were telling me to run. I just ignored them. It seemed the thing to do at the time,” he said the cigarette dangling from his lips.
“Well, I have one more question before you actually open your eyes,” She said the laughter leaving her voice. “What is the last thing you remember before waking up?”
Chris began to prop himself up on the bed and the pain began to surge through his body. It seemed as though every fiber of nerve tissue were becoming a rancorous melody of taunts. “Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch,” Chris said as he slowly let his weight settle back on the bed. He took a couple of breaths while the chorus dimmed. “Breathing hurts, my arms feel as though they were going to collapse under my weight. Then there is the headache,” he thought to himself. “I remember a gunshot, warmth running down my left side, feeling numb and peaceful,” Chris said turning his head towards her.
When Chris tried to open his eyes three things happened. The first was a tsunami of pain traveled down his left side. The second was the sharp sound of the woman catching her breath. The third was Chris laughing. This caused him even more pain. “What’s your name?”
She looked at Chris the pain written all over his body. An eyebrow raised as she thought to herself, “He must be in a catastrophic amount of pain. Yet he is trying to maintain a conversation.” “Strange,” she said.
“Your name is Strange,” Chris said attempting to hold back the laughter. This only served to cause him more pain. “Dammit,” He laughed holding his side.
“No. My name is Mariah, and you’re the one that is strange. Now you need to lay back down before you pass out,” she said grabbing the cigarette out of his mouth and put them both out. When she turned around Chris was starring at her face. He was smiling.
“I have never been so happy to be wrong,” Chris said.
“Glad to disappoint,” Mariah said through a smile. “Now get some rest. You’re going to need it. By this time tomorrow, you’re going to be very hungry.