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Into the Nothing—Part 2

by Dania Diab 4 years ago in fantasy
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"I woke up in the same room."

I woke up in the same room. The white walls, the heavy blanket. There was no other furniture in the room. I was going deaf from the silence. I turned my head a little bit more and saw a man standing behind the bed. His hands were on the metal and the metal was glowing red. He was staring at me, but seemed to be looking through me at the same time. I looked at bit closer into his eyes and saw that his pupils had bright red dots in their centers. They were the same color as the hot metal. I didn’t move. I wasn’t afraid, but I wasn’t comfortable either. My mind was very calm. I felt like I knew him but I knew I didn’t at the same time. The only familiar thing about him were the red dots. They were the only part of him looking at me.

I shifted onto my knees and faced him. He raised his eyebrows in amusement. I didn’t change my face. I just kept my eyes on those red centers. I needed to know. I raised my hand to his face and all of a sudden, he wasn’t there anymore. Neither was I. My eyes were closed against the whiteness and I went cold. The heat from the metal bars was gone. Everything felt icy. Then I felt the hands again. They were on my back, keeping me from freezing to death. Maybe I was already dead. I wouldn’t know until I opened my eyes again. If I opened my eyes again.

The thunder was back. I was hugging my dog again. He was whimpering. This time, there was another noise. In my mom’s room. She was talking to someone. That someone was a guy. He sounded angry. I hugged my dog even tighter at the sound of glass breaking. My mom was at my door almost immediately. There was blood on her hands. I was frozen. I didn’t know what had just happened and didn’t know if I wanted to know. I just let her smile at me and rub a bloody hand on my face, pushing my hair back so she could look at me. I smelled it. At one point I think I tasted it. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t move. My dad came in behind her. He had no blood on his hands. He wiped my mom’s hands with a towel to clean them off. Then, with another towel, he wiped my face. I think he was crying. Maybe it was her. I don’t remember much besides the smell of the blood.

I woke up in a hospital room. Light blue walls, hospital bed, the smell of sick people. It was eerie. I hated hospitals. There was an IV in my arm and a tube in my nose. I turned my head and saw my mom sitting on the couch next to me. I gave her a weak smile, but she couldn’t muster anything but tears in response. The nurse came in and took my mother outside. Before she came back in, I was already asleep again.

This time, I was the one standing. The man was sitting on the bed, hands on the metal frame, glowing red again. I stood in front of him, my hand on his chin, holding him still so I could look at his eyes. The red dots were still there. He was young. A little bit older than I am. His hair was blond, lighter than mine. His features reminded me of someone I knew I shouldn’t recognize. The red dots bothered me. They were the only part of him looking right at me. They were in the way. I tried to ask him who he was, but he laughed and everything faded to black again. I felt like I was falling through nothing. Maybe I wouldn’t open my eyes this time.


About the author

Dania Diab

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