I had always thought dying would be easy. Now, of course I had dreaded my final moments, I had imagined it’d take a special form of idiocy to not fear being powerless and alone, hurting, with nothing but the promise of the unknown on the other side. But I had never truly been afraid of being dead. Once life was over, fear itself shouldn’t matter anymore, so why bother? Because it apparently wasn’t quite that easy, at least not for me. Right now, I was… huh, maybe a bit of context is in order, so you can fully appreciate my predicament before I get into anymore details.
I had had a good life, maybe not the longest one, but the 15 1/2 years I had been allowed to spend on earth had been… happy, mostly. Loving parents, who hadn’t been around much, a 2 years older, doting sister, who had raised me in their stead, grandparents who had spoiled me stupid… I had even been able to travel and live in a bunch of different countries. School had been a breeze and since I had somehow lucked out in the genetics department, I hadn’t had much trouble getting to know new people, even though I had never gotten overly close to them. Sure, once or twice I had failed miserably in weeding out the assholes and psychos, but all in all, I shouldn’t complain… or maybe… well, ultimately I suppose it’s up to you to decide.
We had once again moved to a new city, New York, and I had been busy with the usual new girl in town shenanigans. Finding a suitable dojo, puzzling out how I might get to school without too much trouble and of course, dealing with school itself. I was younger than my peers, my education in the more… conservative schools of Eastern Europe had allowed me to skip some classes, but since I had been forced to make new acquaintances over and over again, my social skills weren’t the worst, even though I hadn’t had any real friends. Unfortunately, we had never stuck around for long enough to make that happen. Combined with my self esteem, which bordered on arrogance, and my 1.7 metres of hight, it usually wasn’t much of a problem, though. At least no one had ever put itching powder into my bra. Something I had only ever experienced as the culprit, but luckily I had never been caught. And well, Paris was a whole ocean away by now. Also, she had deserved it, but I digress.
On the first day, I had followed my usual routine. Be friendly and approachable and ultimately, you’ll most likely get to know the people you’re forced to share your lunch with anyways. Everything else would develop naturally. Long story short, I hadn’t thought much of it when I had been invited to sit with a group of tall, curvy girls, all of whom, as it had later turned out, were part of the cheerleading squad, a fact they hadn’t been able to repeat often enough. I wouldn’t have minded but when they had begun insinuating the social importance of joining them, I had been on guard. The stereotype had almost made me sneer, especially when I had found out that they pretty much had only wanted to recruit me, but in the end I had managed to politely decline.
One of them, Katie, hadn’t taken my refusal lightly and we had gotten into an argument that had quickly spiralled out of control. I still don’t know why, well, maybe I do, but suddenly she had been insulting me as if I had stolen her boyfriend. With a sigh I had turned away and since I had still puzzled over what had just happened, I had left my bag behind. One of the other girls had returned it later, but…
On my way home, I had been waiting for the subway at 96th Street stop, too lazy to walk the couple of blocks it’d take me to get home, when Katie had called me from the top of the escalator. She had had my phone. With a malicious grin she had thrown it at me but had missed by a landslide, purposefully. Reflexively I had reached for it and… just another unfortunate accident. I had slipped and my head had collided with the rails. The last thing I had heard was a resounding crack when I had found out that steel was a tad bit harder than my skull.
At first I had been… gone. Maybe there had been something around me, within me, but if there had been, it would have been so far removed from who I was, that it wouldn’t have mattered either way. I had been dead. Don’t ask me how I know, but there was just something… I hadn’t been unconscious or even comatose, I had truly been gone. Which wouldn’t have been so bad…
But now… I was suffering. And I don’t mean the gentle I hit my toe kind of suffering. I was dead and still somehow there, and my body told me resolutely that it didn’t appreciate it. Not one bit. I was distantly aware of the people around me and that I was transported somewhere else, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I just wanted the pain to stop. Imagine white hot needles piercing every cell in your body… that’s not even close.
The agony was overwhelming, I lost myself, I forgot who I was, where I was from, even my name became hazy. “Evelyne,” I repeated the words like a mantra. “Evelyne Helene Paradizo”, a bubble of memories I clung onto like a drowning girl to a raft. Second after second I reiterated my name, minute after minute until suddenly, the pain vanished. Form one instant to the next, the fire in my veins petered out and turned into a soothing, gentle throb when darkness finally claimed me.
When I woke up, I was in a small bed with beeping machines around and a plethora of tubes in me, but to my utmost surprise, I felt… just fine. Exhausted, in a hospital bed and definitely strangled by my colourful collection of IV bags, tubes and sensors, but still fine. Fine enough to mumble: “mum? Dad? Victoria?” The three people jolted form their various, indignant positions, draped over the three chairs in my room like forgotten coats, and hurried to my side.
“Evee,” my mum whispered before she buried her head in my chest, her arms slung around me, and began to cry. My dad smiled like a mad men, tears glistening on his face as he took my hand with enough strength to make sure I couldn’t suddenly vanish from his grasp. My sister said nothing, she only stared at me with huge, watery eyes, while her disbelieve was slowly replace by happiness. Judging from the dark circles under her eyes and the crumpled state of her dress, I had been under for a while. “It’s good to have you back, princess,” she finally breathed, her voice trembling. I blinked away my own tears and wrapped my free arm around my mum.
“It’s good to be back… I…. I.” And that was pretty much all I managed to croak, before I broke down, sobbing like an infant. Within seconds, we became an entangled mess of limbs as my father and sister joined us in our hug and their hot tears mixed with ours. They were still present enough to be mindful of the tubes coming out of me, but the nurse who rushed in a minute later was utterly ignored. Not until she returned with one of my doctors, an elderly, bespectacled man with a shock of grey brown hair, who repeatedly called out to us, did we grudgingly separate.
“Mr, Mrs and Ms Paradizo, allow me to do my job. It won’t take long, but please, let me have a look at your daughter. I have to…” he met my gaze and hesitated, his eyes widening behind his wire rimmed glasses. I frowned, a bolt of fear tearing through my insides when I imagined what might have set him off. I felt fine, for god’s sake! I couldn’t… was he… my thoughts spiralled off into undiluted panic, I wouldn’t be able to deal with another surge of white hot pain! There was no way! Please!
Shivering, I stared at the man, willing him to speak, to tell me all would be well, to reassure me that I wouldn’t have to go through hell, once again. My heart raced, sweat formed on my brow and I clung closer to my family, in dire need of something to hold on to. Just tell me, I thought and suddenly, my vision shifted, suddenly, I wasn’t staring at the doctor anymore.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Instead, I was looking at a family of four… my family. My father, a broad shoulder man in his 50s, tall and blonde with clear, blue eyes, my mother, willowy and elegant, her long, black hair and dark eyes a stark contrast to her white, youthful skin, my sister, slender and lithe, a beautiful blonde with almost black, huge eyes, and finally, me… I hoped, but… my face hadn’t changed, much. Soft lines, a straight, small nose, white, flawless skin and flowing, black hair above a long, slender neck. But my eyes… they were huge. I had always had slanted, violet coloured eyes but those sparkling gems looked light amethysts under the sun. A fairy, I thought, I’ve turned into a fairy! And then: what the… I wasn’t prone to swearing but this particular form of an out of body experience was frightening. Especially when I heard my doctor’s voice loud and clear in my ears.
“That can’t… she didn’t look like that… maybe… are her eyes glowing? Shit! She should be dead, for fuck’s sake. Is she an alien? No, calm down Tom. There’s an explanation. Yeah, right… gene therapy? Surgery? Bull shit. Even after 40 years, I haven’t seen it all. First I have to make sure how she could even wake up and then… hmm… I’ll have to do the blood work, anyways. Alright, time to do my job. Stop staring, you old geezer, you frighten the girl. She’s still your patient.” Caught somewhere between utter confusion and a growing headache, I reflexively closed my eyes and his voice immediately vanished. When I blinked, I was back in my bed, my family slowly moving away to allow old geezer Tom to reach me.
I had held my tongue while I had been pricked and prodded but after several hours, a MRT scan and a gourmand variety of pills, no one could deny that I was healthy. A major surprise, considering I had had a cracked skull and my brain had been haemorrhaging like crazy. Apparently I hadn’t been supposed to wake up, ever again.
Time had passed in a blur, questions, examinations and one sided conversations a hazy fog, while I had internally been dealing with the lunacy that had greeted me ever since I had returned to the land of the living. After what felt like years, I was finally cleared to go back home tomorrow, removed from the ICU, and then, I shooed my family from the room, insisting that I’d manage one night alone while they got some well deserved sleep. Also, they would have to return early the next day to pick me up. I wasn’t willing to spend more time in a hospital than I absolutely had to. And someone had been lurking in the halls, unwilling to visit me while my family was still there.
When the door closed behind Victoria’s double tailed coat I didn’t have to wait long, a lingering shadow moved behind the door and blocked out the light filtering in from the corridor.
“You don’t have to hide, Katie, I know you’re there. Come on in,” I said, my voice hoarse. It took a second for her to muster her courage but when she finally turned the handle, the first thing I saw was a gargantuan flower bouquet, the cause of my would be demise hidden behind it.
“I…I brought you flowers,” she said unnecessarily, her anxiety palpable in every word.
“I can see that. Have you been here all day?” She slowly lowered the veritable forest she had brought along. Green, red rimmed eyes and flowing golden hair appeared behind violets and evergreens. She was hunched over and obviously hadn’t slept for a while, the impeccable layer of makeup I had seen on her last was gone and honestly, she was even prettier without, despite the faint the-living-dead vibe she gave off as she nodded.
“My… and I thought I was supposed to look like death, but you got me beat by a landslide. Are you alright?” “I… shouldn’t I be asking you that? Evelyne, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to…”
“I know,” I sighed. “But you have to forgive me, I’m not going to tell you everything’s all right. You…” I paused, grasping for the right words. I studied her closely. She was about my hight, maybe a centimetre or two shorter. Sweatpants and a tight T-shirt did her blossoming figure justice and I unconsciously pulled the thin blanket to my chin in embarrassment. My legs might be a bit longer, but I’d never be able to compete with her hourglass figure. To tell the truth, none in my family could, even though my sister was already grown up.
I fidgeted, completely distracted. Why was this bothering me so much? Focus, Evee! With a lopsided grin I raised my gaze from her bust and stared into her eyes. And my vision shattered again while Katie’s voice filled my ears.
She was staring at an apparition, entirely lost in a set of glowing, amethyst eyes, her thoughts racing. “Oh god, she hates me. She has to! What have I done? At least she’s fine. Even if she won’t talk to me again… why? Why have I… god, she’s beautiful. Am I blushing? Please, no! Fuck… doesn’t matter. Just get it over with. Tell her why you acted like a bitch. The rest is up to her. Right… Hey Evelyne, I endangered your life because I was envious and maybe a little infatuated. When you said you didn’t want to join us I felt rejected so I lashed out… at least that’s what my mum says… right, that’s going to go over perfectly, won’t it? Why… why is she smiling?” I blinked and my perspective returned to staring at the pretty, blushing blonde.
“Come here,” I said, scooted to the side and patted my bed. Now, you might be wondering why I was even entertaining the idea of making up with her, never mind trusting in something that, for all intent and purposes, could be a psychotic episode induced by trauma and possibly a damaged brain. Two reasons. One, I was simply happy to be still alive and I didn’t plan on wasting the chance I had gotten. Holding a grudge and gnawing on it like a dog on an old bone wasn’t very high up on my to do list. Two, either I was going insane, in which case I’d try to hold on for as long as possible before the men in white overalls were going to take me, or I wasn’t, in which case I would only invite the men in white overalls sooner rather than later, if I was stupid enough to make a fuss. All in all, going with the flow was the much better option. I’d deal with the rest later.
Katie timidly approached me, the bouquet held in front of her like a shield. When she finally reached the foot of my bed and walked up, her smell overpowered the sterile stench of disinfectants and I was engulfed by a fragrant cloud of roses and vanilla mixed with the sweet aroma of violets. She seemed like a lost puppy to me when she sat on the very edge of the admittedly tiny mattress, stiff like a board.
We remained silent for a few heartbeats until both of us started blabbering at the same time.
“I’m so sorry. Please, I never meant to…” “I don’t really blame you and I…” We bit our tongues at the same moment, staring at one another, the electrical buzzing around us suddenly overly loud in my ears. And then, I giggled and the tension evaporated like fog under a midday sun when she joined me. Her laughter, melodious and sweet like a song, filled the room and for a minute or two I almost forgot where I was and that the girl at my side was the reason why I was still hooked up to a beeping behemoth of a machine.
“What’s going to happen now,” she asked breathlessly when our mirth had died down.
“Beats me. I guess I’ll stay at home for a while and we’ll both probably have to talk to the cops.” She eyed me from the side, before she whispered: “and what are you going to tell them?”
“Is that why you’re here?” “No,” she immediately and resolutely denied the insinuation. “Not really… but I’m already suspended and depending on what you’re going to tell them… I might lose my scholarship. I… I just have to know… I… my family won’t be able to afford the tuition and it’ll take a while to find another school.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell the truth.” Her expression fell and I could practically feel the waves of despair that radiated off of her before I continued: “I lost my phone and you returned it, although maybe not in the most practical manner. Its not your fault that I’m too clumsy to catch anything.” A tremulous smile spread across her face.
“You’d do that for me? After everything I’ve done?”
“One, it’s the truth and two… Sure… provided you buy me a new one. I can’t imagine the thing has survived…” with a squeal she hugged me tightly and somehow I knew that I had just found a friend. A real one. And all it had taken was dying and coming back to life. Piece of cake.