It was the bitter taste of blood that woke me up. A trail of warm liquid made its way out of a gaping wound and down the side of my head. It tickled a little as it slowly slithered and wound its way through my hair. A jolt of pain seared through my arm as I tried to move it and my eyes shot open. Suddenly numb, I swear the night sky was never as beautiful as it was that night.
It’s funny the things you miss as you rush through your daily routine. It wasn’t cloudy at all that night, not at all. The silvery glow of the moon and the warm light from the streetlamps danced before my eyes. The stars spun as my body was clumsily wheeled into the back of an ambulance. I could just hear the paramedics over the sirens and the sound of rushing blood in my ears. “You’ll be okay, you’ll be fine,” they said and as they placed something over my mouth, darkness.
The yelling had stopped and for that I was grateful, but the silence that followed was even more deafening. Even with tears in his eyes and his eyebrows furrowed he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. The red glow of the traffic light made the circles under his eyes dark; it had been a long week and the both of us were just so tired of fighting. I watched as the muscles in his jaw clench, he opened his mouth to speak but the unforgiving silence and the tension that hung in the air rendered him speechless. I tried my luck at words but my dry throat refused to produce them. I wanted to reach out and stroke his hair and let my fingers line his finely chiseled jaw line but my muscles refused to cooperate. He licked his lips and I longed for him to smile, for him to tell me it was all going to be okay, for him to lean over and kiss me to let me know he loved me, but nothing. He grasped at the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. A muscle in his jaw drummed as he gritted his teeth and drove forward as the green light filtered through the tinted windows of our car. Then I woke.
The odor of anesthetics...