Left for Wild - Harloe Rae Page 0,11
need to go, okay? I’ll come by this weekend.”
“Promise?” Her resigned tone sends a stab of shame into my stomach.
“Yes, of course. I love you, Mom.”
“Love you, sweetie. Take care of yourself.”
“I will. Talk to you soon.” I end our call, removing my ear bud with a weighted exhale. If only she could find a slice of peace that didn’t involve me moving in with her. My only saving grace is that I have two sisters living very similar lives as me. Sharing the spotlight of her stress keeps the guilt from being all consuming.
I’m contemplating a quick trip to the bathroom when my name is announced. After gathering all the goods, I stride outside to get my day rolling. Between the rising sun and several gulps of coffee, an abundance of heat is rushing beneath my skin. And I still have twenty minutes before my meeting starts.
While passing the next block, black spots begin dancing in my vision. I blink and shake my head in an attempt to clear the speckles. More darkness swoops in, and I nearly stumble. What the heck? I pause at the nearest building, using the brick wall as support.
My eyelids are suddenly made of cement. The rapid beat of my heart is forceful enough to crack a rib. A wave of drowsiness attempts to pull me under. My bones are replaced with jelly, and I wobble while trying to remain standing. It’s a wasted effort, as I crumple faster than wet tissue.
I expect to be greeted by the unforgiving concrete, but the crash never comes. Before awareness completely slips away, I feel a pair of arms swoop in to support my weight.
A fog descends like a thick comforter, cocooning me in blissful oblivion. Something prods at me. I should be falling. But this eerie state I’m drifting in steals all possibility of concern. The sensation of being hoisted upward shouldn’t fill me with comfort, yet I’m floating on a puffy pillow of indifference. Am I being carried? What happened? Mere seconds ago, it seemed as if dread and panic plagued me. All that surrounds me now is quiet serenity. I must be dreaming. But wasn’t I going somewhere? The details escape me as inky midnight closes in.
Without rational thought clogging the way, I slip deeper into this fuzzy abyss. Am I sleeping? My mind takes the opportunity to wander. Seconds bleed into minutes, lapping over hours. Or maybe I’m caught in a loop that’s only a single beat long.
It’s pitch black, but the hint of random shapes dance along the fray. A biting chill whisks into the vast nothingness. I should curl into a ball, but can’t control my movements. Muffled voices attempt to penetrate the haze, but don’t quite break through. I can’t grasp what’s shrouding me. It’s just blank.
I’ve been coasting along this placid sea long enough to assume it’s my new normal. That’s when the black veil begins to dissolve away, one layer after another. Recognition seeps in on a slow drip. The cold is unforgiving, a fierce howl screaming at me to hide, but a nosedive in temperature isn’t the worst of my problems.
A sharp pain is piercing into my skull. The stabbing agony is what pulls me to the surface. I regain consciousness with a gasp, as if my body has been yanked prematurely from a deep hibernation. My limbs feel like they’re encased in lead, leaving me limp and immobile. I’m lethargic and groggy, worse than a tequila hangover. My brain is bobbling in sludge as clarity snaps into focus. Static hisses in my ears, making it impossible to hear a damn thing. Not that I would at this rate.
I’m struck with a blast of realization as the events leading up to this void filter through the numb. There’s a shrill tone drowning out the white noise. That unbearable pitch squeezes the vice at my temples. I force my eyes open, barely a crack. That thin gap is wide enough to catch a shadow looming over me. It takes great effort to concentrate on the form. A figure takes shape, narrowing into a masculine face with a pair of stunning green eyes.
“Thank Christ. I was beginning to think you’d never wake up.”
A strangled yelp rips out of my throat. “Who the hell are you?”
Survival tip #6: Expecting the worst is meant to be a last resort.
My journey to awareness isn’t gradual. The instant I regain consciousness, the gravity of getting captured punches me in the jaw. Gathering my