“Fucking dog! Get the fuck off of me!” Through blurry eyes, I could make out Riley latched onto Craig's leg, shaking his head without releasing his appendage.
Weakly, I tried to get what seemed to be a belt off my neck. My fingers fumbling and trying to get it unbuckled as Riley continued to bite Craig's flesh. Before I could manage to get it undone he managed to land a kick to Riley hard enough to send him down a few stairs and charged at me.
Standing, I backed up to the banister, trapped and unable to go anywhere. Riley appeared at the top of the stairs, muzzle covered in Craig's blood, aiming for another attack, but he was too late. With one final smile, before my canine hero could reach me again, he shoved me over the banister of my second-floor landing and into the awaiting darkness that swallowed me below.
January 14th 2020
I think I finally met someone who might make the cut for me. He’s charming, sweet, charismatic, the total package. Everything seems like it was just meant to be. How we met at the bar a few weeks ago, while I was out with some girls from work was straight out of a Hallmark movie. We spent the entire night talking and before I knew what I was doing.
I gave him my number. That was almost three weeks ago and I’ve been living a fantasy ever since. He, Craig, has sent flowers to the clinic multiple times a week just to show how much he misses me. On several occasions, he's even surprised me with lunch—not just from my favorite restaurants, but with the specific dishes I've mentioned I love most. He doesn’t even think it’s weird that I stand firm in my belief that pineapple belongs on pizza or that my favorite salad dressing is blue cheese.
In so many ways, Craig is the exact man I’ve been looking for. He’s upfront about how he feels about me too. He’s told me that he’s nevermet anyone who understands him like I do and has already said he could really see a future for us—something he’s never felt with anyone else. Even though he’s a bit older than I am, he still has a wonderful sense of humor, and not a day goes by where he doesn’t make me laugh or feel special.
Tonight, he is taking me to go see the new Insidious movie that’s in theaters, even though he said he usually doesn’t like horror movies, he doesn’t mind watching them with me to make me happy.
It’s only been a few weeks, but I really think he could be one that sticks around.
Chapter two
The Phoenix
September 23rd 2023
Darkness was an embrace that I wanted to sink into, relishing in the never-ending depths like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer, and to run away from. As comforting as the unceasing void of black was, I felt like the grim reaper was tempting me to follow him into the unknown with promises of peace from suffering. He beckoned me as a lover would, making the eternal darkness sing sweet nothings in my ear, serenading me to join him in peace. As I tried to turn back, as I tried to surface from the depths I had sunk so far into, the pain gradually started to become more real.
The darkness wasn’t as quiet as I would have expected it to be upon death. As I slowly started to withdraw from the void where my body was less aware of its surroundings while floating in the ether, the persistent beeping grew in volume. Unlike the movies, it wasn’t the comforting tone of a loved one's voice that lured me away from the temptation the grim reaper offered, but the sound of a heart monitor beeping along with my pulse, grating on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Once I was aware of the noise there was no tuning it out.
My eyes felt like they were grating on sandpaper beneath my lids as I gave half an effort to open them. When I tried to swallow, I discovered my tongue was stuck to the roof of my dry mouth, making it almost impossible. How long had I been out of it to cause my body this much pain? Maybe giving into death's embrace would have been less painful than simply trying to wake up from whatever hell I was currently living in.
I tried to lift one of my hands to my face in the hopes of rubbing my eyes and helping them feel a bit more motivated to open, only to find I couldn’t move either hand. Panic set in, completely overriding any thoughts I had of drifting back into the darkness, and all my effort went to prying open my eyes. It worked even if my vision was still somewhat blurry from the copious amount of sleep and from being under the harsh fluorescent lights.
Anxiety started to fill my chest, constricting my lungs and closing my throat. If I let it take over, it would control me, stealing away my ability to breathe and think rationally. If I let it, it would win. I tried to blink my eyes rapidly just to clear my vision but also to hold off any tears that might attempt to fall. From my position propped up on a few pillows, I could tell that I wasn’t in my room at my house.
The tears fell despite my best efforts to keep them at bay. Through them, my eyes started to clear, and I could tell that I was strapped to a hospital bed in what seemed to be a hospital room. My head was elevated enough that I could see thedoor across the room and down the length of my body. A thin white blanket covered me up to my chest. Wiggling my feet I could tell they were restrained just like my hands were, causing my panic to rise even higher. Being held against my will was my ultimate kryptonite and the source of most of my panic attacks in the past.
“Hello! Help me!” The sound of my own voice was foreign to my ears, the pitch raspier than it normally was from how dried out it had become.
Memories started to flood my mind in waves, pushing against my already fragile thoughts without giving me a reprieve, over and over again, they overwhelmed me. His face. His crystal blue eyes. They consumed me. Craig had tried to kill me. The last thing I remembered was something going around my neck after we had argued. The details were still hazy, but with how sore my throat was each time I tried to swallow, I was sure he had tried to kill me.
“Is anyone out there?” That time, my voice was as loud as I had hoped it would be in my attempt to get anyone's attention from outside the room. This had to be a mistake. The restraints holding me in place had to be a misunderstanding.
As much as I pulled against the leather straps that held my limbs down, it didn’t get me any closer to being free. I didn’t exactly feel weak, but what little strength I had was nothing compared to the material holding me against the bed.
After what felt like an eternity, but in reality was probably more like a few minutes, a nurse finally came into the room. Atleast I assumed she was a nurse, the scrubs and the ID badge were a giveaway, but she failed to introduce herself. She didn’t let on that she had heard my pleas for help, simply looked bored at seeing me awake and on the verge of a complete panic attack from being unable to move.
“Please, can you help me?” I pleaded with her.
“I’m sorry Miss, doctors order on the restraints. I was just doing my rounds, I’m glad to see you’re awake. Dr. Jameson will be wanting to talk with you.” She made her way over to the left side of my bed where all the machines were sitting. In my panic I hadn’t noticed not only did they have me hooked up to an EKG machine, which was now registering my heart rate as if I had just sprinted a marathon, but also had an IV line running under the blanket to my left arm.
I hadn’t yet taken the time to assess my body to see if I had any injuries, since I was too busy trying to gain control over my anxiety. Now that someone was in the room with me, even though she made it clear she wasn’t letting me out of the bed, I could breathe a little easier and try to take note of anything wrong with me. Even though I couldn’t see much of myself thanks to the thin blanket I could tell that every inch of my body was sore. I would bet bruises covered most of me with how tender I felt.
Usually when I could get my anxiety to calm down, my throat would open back up to an almost normal state, allowing me to take regular deep breaths. Right now that wasn’t happening. Despitetrying to remain calm a tight pain persisted around my throat, hurting to try swallow, and making it damn near impossible for me to calm down. It felt like he was still choking me, slowly killing me.
The nurse’s face pinched in a frown as she made a few notes on her tablet while checking my heart rate.
“Does your heart rate typically run on the higher side?” She clicked her tongue, her eyes disapproving as she looked at me. All that make up she wore couldn’t cover up the permanent scowl on her young face. With how much she wore it would probably crack anyways if she attempted to smile.
“Umm, I don’t think so, I think it’s just my anxiety.” I could feel my heart calming down as I tried to focus on talking to her, but it was still threatening to beat itself out of my chest, like a full-blown reenactment from an alien movie where the freshly laid alien baby springs free from its warm host's rib cage.
