Every time I let this ocean swallow me, I hear her voice, and it pulls me back in. Over and over again. Over time, I stopped letting the ocean take me. I fight, but it’s useless. The ocean is stronger. It’s never-ending, and it’s just me here, alone.
But I’m not alone. I feel her presence. To be frank, I think that it’s the only thing I feel. I know she says she’s holding my hand, but I don’t feel it—I don’t have hands. I have nothing, just the freedom of not feeling anything.
And I’m ready to go.
But every time the thought enters my mind, I get another feeling. A deep ache in my chest if I had one. It pulls me right back in.
The guilt. I feel a lot of guilt. But this one feels different than the one I’ve been living with for many years. This one tells me that I’m leaving someone behind. I’ve never had this feeling before, but I know I like it.
I suddenly feel another presence around me. A friendly one. Like it’s someone close to me, and I know she feels it too, because she relaxes. I’m good. She is near, and she is happy.
But then she’s stressed, and I’m back to worrying. My heart begins palpitating, and I can’t breathe. My throat begins contracting, and I suddenly become all too aware of my body. I can feel it.
There is a warmth under my ribs. Another beating heart and a constant, soft buzzing sound, like a tiny tractor, has climbed into my ears.
I feel more warmth spreading through my limbs. I’m more aware of everything.
I can’t open my eyes, but I feel someone talking rapidly.
“His BP is dropping.”
She’s on the verge of tears. I can feel it. The one who’s been holding me together.
I need to fix that.
I try to pry my eyes open, but they don’t listen. My chest aches more, and the chatter around me gets louder and faster. They probe and poke my body, and I can’t stop them.
“Stephan.” Her desperate plea makes my heart stop. The beeping intensifies, and she starts crying.
Fuck it, I’m outta here.
I gather everything I have left and force my eyes open.
And they listen this time.
I find her watching me with wide, teary eyes. Kenneth is hugging her shoulders. His face solemn. I’m clearly in a hospital room, because people in medical scrubs surround me, poking everywhere they can. I try speaking, but something is in my throat. I try to find it and pull it out, but the doctor grabs my hand.
“Let us do that. It’s a breathing tube. I’m gonna pull it away, and your throat might hurt.”
Might hurt my ass.It feels like he just pulled my esophagus out with the damn tube. I begin coughing. A nurse brings a glass with a straw and brings it to my lips.
“Take one small sip.”
I do as I’m told and begin coughing again—the water feeling like burning lava down my throat. She waits till the cough subsides and gives me another sip. This one goes down smoother, and I feel my throat starting to feel like my own.
“Fucking hell, man.” Kenneth laughs. “I didn’t know if you’d make it.”
I brave myself to face Kenneth. I avoided looking at him because I know Leila is by his side. I don’t know why, but I’m scared to meet her eyes. Something big has clearly happened, and I’m still out of it. I just hope I didn’t fuck up like I always do.
“Welcome back, Mr. Williamson.” The doctor draws my attention back to him. He listens to my heart, shines light into my eyes, and pulls away with a satisfied smile. “I’ll order some tests to see what’s going on with your body, and then we can go from there.” He pats my shoulder with a smile. “You just beat the odds. Made me proud.”
With that, he departs, followed by the nurses.
Kenneth walks up to me and squeezes my hand. “I’m fucking happy to see you back, man. Welcome to the family. I don’t think you have a choice now—you’re stuck with us.” He lets out a chuckle. “You’re going to regret it at some point, but we don’t issue refunds.”
He smacks me on the shoulder and leaves. Why is everyone smacking me?
I watch him leave, dreading facing Leila, who hasn’t made a move to come closer. I probably really fucked up. But she is here, right? So it can’t be that bad.
