Continued from 08-17-2009...
Start Fiction:
"He's confused, disoriented," one of the medics said to his partner, who shook her head agreeing.
"I'm not confused, damn it," Ken said in barely a whisper. The medics didn't hear him and even of they did, they surely wouldn't listen to him.
Ken couldn't move, his gaze was limited to straight above him. As they made their way put of the house, he realized it was night time.
How long did I lay there? he thought.
He didn't ponder it too long as he noticed the full moon over head. No matter what Ken was doing or feeling, he always took the time to enjoy the beauty of a full moon. He was aware of the medics, but wasn't sure who's hand was on his shoulder.
The lights from the ambulance began to blind Ken as he was loaded. Every bump, jerk and wiggle blurred Ken's vision and sent shooting pain up and down his spine.
It's a good thing I can feel pain, right? Ken thought as the pain intensified, he felt himself fading, blacking out.
"The body in the bag," he said in a audible cry as he went unconscious. As he faded he heard a constant alarm, the voices of he medics became more frantic; their voices faded.
He heard a whisper, faint, possibly a hallucination, "I'm right here."
Then, nothing; floating, darkness.
Ken awoke in the hospital and could feel a tube on his mouth.
Oh shit, he thought trying not to panic. What the hell happened to me?
He didn't think he was in the bad of shape, considering he could feel pain, was breathing on his own; maybe the movement from the medics did something. At any rate, he decided to take a slow system diagnostic, wiggling and trying to move muscles to see if pain follows or if he just moves.
Starting with his toes, Ken could feel his right foot move, but was not so sure his left foot was moving. No pain, a good sign. Moving his hands, pain shot across his chest and down his spine. He tried to let out a reactionary scream of pain, but began gagging, choking on the tube down his throat.
Alarms and bells went off all over the place, piercing his ears, inflaming his headache. He tried to relax, not fight it, but the pain continued and his instinct was to pull the tube out which caused more pain as he moved his arms.
As he felt his face warm and his anxiety rose, again the faint whisper spoke to him: "I am right here."
"Hold on, sir," a woman's voice called out.
Two women flanked him, punching buttons and checking medications. Ken wiggled in the bed, feeling his left hand grasp the tube and he began to pull.
"If you're going to pull it out, do it as fast as you can," the gray haired nurse said.
"Like a band-aide," the young nurse said.
Ken yanked as hard as he could, his choking intensified. The gray haired nurse leaned forward and pulled the tube as though she was trying to start a stubborn lawn mower.
Ken gasped, coughed shooting snot and spit across the room.
"The body in the bathroom," he said, his throat burning causing him to gag more.
"Calm yourself down, sir," the gray haired nurse began, "catch your breath before you try to talk, and even then, think long and hard because it's going to hurt, a lot."
Ken shook his head letting her know he understood. Each cough sent shooting pain down his spine, across his chest. He fought the urge to cough, and it was working.
"You're awake," Anne said taking hold of his hand. Her voice echoed in his head. She looked tired.
"The body," Ken said.
"Save your energy," Anne said leaning closer to him, "I'll tell you what they found later. Just know everything is okay." She kissed him on the forehead and smiled with tears welling up in her eyes.
"I freaked out," he said, squeezing her hand, "and fell down the stairs."
"Everything is going to be fine," Anne assured him.
I hope so, Ken thought.
He took as deep a breath as be could and closed his eyes. He had no idea what they found, and he wondered if they did either.
Perhaps something had found him.
End Fiction.
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