by Brianna G. Harte
PREVIOUSLY, ON “THE KNIGHT OF XEO”
Gwen motioned to the paper that was in my lap, and I thought I understood.
I began to draw a circle with the hospital bed with me laying upon it, the window, and Gwen. The picture seemed pretty simple and light to me. I didn’t draw the door because I didn’t know what was beyond it and at the moment, this didn’t spark my curiosity enough. On the other side of the paper, I drew another circle. In it, I tried to draw everything about the darker hospital that I still wasn’t convinced was a hospital. Jagged lines, chains, and anything that gave me the chills. I could feel Gwen watching my face contort upon recalling it all. In neither circle were any of the things that were on her card.
“I keep going back and forth between this scary, dark hospital and this bright one. There’s this doctor that looks like a dwarf and he keeps me on a table. . . I don’t know why any of this is happening. I don’t even remember how I got to that hospital or why I was underground in the first place here. I don’t know where my parents are, if I have any friends, where I come from, or anything. Please! I hate this!”
Gwen wore a melancholy face, but I didn’t think she understood me at all. In frustration, I fell back against the inclined bed and pushed away the large boards. I had been so hopeful that I could finally talk to a real person in this world. Not just a disembodied voice. My vision began to short out again. I kept on seeing that stone on the pedestal, flashing over what I saw here – Gwen and the bright room. My head began to pound as a pain erupted in my chest. Immediately, I pressed my hands firmly on the area over my heart. It was like fire was eating away inside of me, and it certainly was not taking its time.
In between the flashes of the stone and my vision of the hospital where no one understood me, I saw Gwen calling outside the door.
What is happening? Why do I sense so much pain? The voice came.
Now was not the time for me to try to communicate with him. My mind seemed to be tearing apart like last time. Concentrating was the last thing I could possibly do.
I can’t see you right now, but please hold on, young lady.
I couldn’t stand it much longer. Tears began to roll down my face. A women with a white coat on burst through the room. As my vision began to blur, I felt a cold metal touch my chest. The woman’s face dissolved away, as did everything else.
Copyright © 2017 Brianna G. Harte. All rights reserved.