Page 31 of Mourning Wings
Noresponse.
Istruggle to sit up, tubes tugging at my skin, and the sharp pain that shoots through my arm makes me gasp.Myhead spins, butIgrit my teeth and swing my legs over the side of the bed.Thecool metal of theIVstand clinks asImove, sending my pulse racing.
Ican’t stay here.Idon’t know wherehereis, but something deep inside tells meIneed to leave.
ThemomentIdecide to act, my hands move on instinct, ripping theIVsout of my arms with a wince.Bloodwells from the punctures, a small line running down my wrist, butIignore it.Itear off the patches on my chest and the oxygen tube hooked to my nose, the beeping of the machines escalating into a sharp alarm.
Ipush myself off the bed and immediately collapse.
Mylegs give out from under me, a surge of dizziness overtaking my senses.Ihit the cold floor hard, and pain explodes through my head as my skull feels like it’s being split in two.Icurl up, clutching my temples, trying to stop the world from spinning, nausea churning in my stomach.
Ilie there for what feels like hours, every second dragging on, the pain searing through me.Idon’t know how long it takes, buteventually, the spinning stops enough for me to move.Iforce myself to sit up, bracing a hand against the floor, fighting to stay steady.Mybody feels all wrong, likeI’vebeen asleep forever, my muscles weak and brittle.Howlong haveIbeen here?
Ilook around the room—no windows, no personal belongings, just sterile, cold surfaces.There’sno file, no chart hanging from the bed, nothing that tells me whoIam or what happened.
Icrawl to the door, pulling myself up by the handle and carefully cracking it open.Thehallway outside is long, stretching out into an unfamiliar maze of white walls.There’sno sign of whereIam.
Istep out, but my body is sluggish, every movement slow and uncoordinated.Istumble forward, wincing as my bare feet hit the cold floor.
Ihardly make it ten feet whenIsee two guards down the hall.Theyspot me, and panic hits like a freight train.Iturn and run.
“Hey!Stop!” one of them shouts.
Idon’t look back.Mylegs are weak, barely holding me up, butIpush through the burning in my lungs, the stabbing pain in my head.Theair rushes against my face, my hospital gown flapping wildly asIbolt down the hallway.
Ifind a side door at the end of the corridor and slam through it, bursting outside into the open air.Thecold hits me like a slap, my breath visible in the night.
Idash into the trees, the ground beneath me turning rough and uneven.
Brancheswhip at my face, sharp cuts opening on my skin asIweave through the forest.Myheart pounds in my chest, echoing in my ears, butIdon’t slow down.Ican’t.Theguards are still behind me, their shouts growing closer.
Myfeet are bare, every rock, every twig, digging into the soles, but the pain is nothing compared to the fear driving meforward.Then,Istep on something sharp, and agony shoots through me.Iscream, stumbling forward, my legs almost giving out, butIkeep going.
Iglance back as my foot catches on something—a root, maybe—andIfall.Mybody slams into the hard ground, my head cracking against a rock.Painexplodes behind my eyes, white-hot and searing.
Itry to get up, to crawl, but my limbs refuse to obey.Darknessseeps into the edges of my vision, swallowing me whole as the guards’ footsteps grow louder.They’reclose now, their voices just above me.
Andthen, everything goes black.
Iwaketo the sound of rustling leaves and the cold bite of the ground beneath me.
Mybody feels heavy, weighed down by pain.
Slowly,Iblink against the fog clouding my vision.Theforest comes into focus—dark trees loom over me, their branches creaking as they sway in the night air.
Iturn onto my back, wincing as a sharp pain stabs through my skull.Themovement sends another wave of nausea rolling through me, andIclamp my eyes shut for a moment, trying to breathe through it.Myhead feels like it’s splitting open, the dull throb now a searing ache, making it almost impossible to think.
WhenIfinally open my eyes again, the moon stares back at me, huge and impossibly bright, hanging high above the trees.Itssilver light cuts through the darkness.Iwince, squinting against the glare drilling into my skull.It’sbeautiful, but it hurts.Everythinghurts.
Itry to move, to lift my arm, but my body is heavy, likeI’msinking into the ground.Everyinch is a struggle.
Mybreath hitches asIreach up to touch my head.Myfingers graze a large, wet gash near my forehead, and pain flares so violently,Ican’t stop the scream that rips from my throat.Itechoes in the quiet of the forest, andIimmediately regret it.
Shit.
Ifreeze, terror settling in.Whatif the guards heard me?Whatif they’re still looking for me?
Butthe forest remains silent, save for the wind.Nofootsteps, no voices.Noone comes for me.