“That’s my girl,” my mom whispers as she curls a wayward hair around my ear. My body trembles, and I close my eyes, wishing the medicine would kick in faster. I focus on my breathing, taking slow, rhythmic, and steady breaths for several minutes. A shoe squeaks on the floor on the other side of my bed. “What happened in here?” A woman’s voice says.
An older woman with salt and pepper hair rounds the foot of the bed, wearing brown dress pants and a cream short-sleeve turtleneck. She stares down at us, her hands on her thin waist. Her eyes lock on the needle on the bed and the blood on the floor. “What did you give her, Bernice?”
The nurse beside us stands. “Valium. She was screaming, in a full-on panic, and ripped her IV out when she tried to get away from us.”
The older woman nods, pursing her tight lips before dropping her arms with a huff. “Well, you can’t leave her on the floor. When that medicine kicks in, she’ll probably fall asleep. Come on.” She unlocks the wheels of the hospital bed and shoves it over with her hip before locking it again and squatting on my right side. “I’m going to need you to use your good leg and help us help you get back to bed. I don’t want to have to lift your dead weight when that injection kicks in. Understand?”
I nod through tear-filled eyes as I blow out a staggering breath.
She gestures to my mom to move, and the other nurse steps to my left. “Count of three,” the older woman says to the nurse. “One, two, three, heave.”
I’m stuck. My body wants desperately to stay in the fetal position. The older nurse grunts. “Put your good leg down, young lady.”
I take another deep breath and relax my leg to the floor, balancing it as they pivot and turn my back to the bed. The older woman’s foot slams down on the pedal beneath the bedframe, and it groans lower before clanking to a stop when it reaches the lowest setting. “Sit down.”
The mattress sinks beneath me, and they swing my legs onto the bed and cover me up with a sheet. With a quick yank from the older woman, the guardrail bangs into place beside me, securing me in bed. “Why weren’t these both up?”
The other nurse looks at her, a perplexed expression on her pale face. “I don’t know, I just got here, and it was a total shit show.” She glances at me and Mom and says, “Sorry for my language.”
“Outside, right now,” the older woman says, not taking her eyes off the other nurse.
For being petite, the older woman is a force I wouldn’t want to reckon with. She gives off a fiery energy that screams “administrator,” and I have a feeling someone’s about to lose their job.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” my mom says, leaning over me.
I want to believe her, but how could I? I’ve made a deal with the devil, and the terms are unknown to me. My eyes cross, and the room blurs. I try to raise my hand to scratch an itch on my nose, but a sluggish feeling consumes me. My eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open.
“Don’t fight it, Tessa bear. You need to rest.” A soft hand strokes the side of my face, and the smell of roses floats into my nostrils. I love my mom’s Bath & Body Works hand cream. It reminds me of blooming flowers in springtime.
I nuzzle her palm and force my head off the pillow to look at her through the barely open slits of my eyes. “Mom, I don’t want to sleep. I’m scared.”
“It’s okay. I’ll be right here when you wake up. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
My head falls back to the pillow. The energy drains from me, and I can no longer lift my arms. “What if he comes for me in my sleep?” I whisper.
Her fingers interlace mine, but I can barely feel them. “Who, sweetheart?”
“The devil,” I murmur.
Chapter Six
Home
Darkness surrounds me, and all sound is muted in the void I’ve entered. There’s nothing here. It’s just a smoke-filled room with a single door, a soft glow of orange light creeping beneath it. Strangely, I feel calm and at ease, almost at home in this place. There’s no one here to judge me or ask questions about what happened that night. It’s just me, well, me and whatever’s beyond that door.
I take a step closer, the floor feeling uneven and jagged beneath my feet. Something screeches on the other side of the door, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. I cover my ears as the claws of the unknown drag from the top to the bottom and disappear as fast as they came. Beneath the door, there’s a break in the orange light as if something stands on the other side of it, waiting for something.
Waiting for me.
When I take a step back, my heel squishes in something warm and slippery. I freeze, fighting and losing the urge to look down. Beneath my heel is a melted face, the melted face of Maureen. My mouth opens, but the room keeps my screams soundless. I scan her mangled body, lifeless, burned, and lying on the slippery algae-covered rocks.
Twisted metal and crackling fire draw my eyes to the ceiling that was never there. Above me is the bridge, my car hanging by a branch. Water rushes around my ankles, and suddenly I’m in waist-deep water. I dig my feet between the rocks, trying to maintain my balance as the water rages downstream.
I glance at the door, mocking me in the corner. I’m not going to bother running for it; it’s locked, it’s always fucking locked.
Why? Why is the devil tormenting me with this repetitive nightmare?
The branch holding my car moans and cracks. I dive underwater and try swimming away, but the water dries up. I crawl to the door and fumble with its knob. Locked as always. The walls glide closer and closer until I’m trapped in the center of the room, where they stop. The branch holding my car snaps, and it plunges toward me. I close my eyes and shriek right before it crushes me flat.
