Beautiful Lie

The machine was charging up again for what seemed like one too many times.

“Clear!”

Then the paddles were on her chest, her body rising unnaturally with the objects before the body slumped back onto the table motionless.

The nurses eyes were flickering toward the two doctors hovering over the body. Too much time had passed, they thought. Yet they couldn’t stop the wave of hope that washed over them as they anticipated what they feared would never happen.

But then it did.

The dreaded constant straight line leaped up, the heart monitor catching it with an excited beep, the line falling back momentarily before it leaped into the air once more and a collective sigh could be heard around the room.

“She stable for now,” The one doctor announced in relief but even her unsure future wasn’t enough to bring the staff back down from their relief.

I awoke with a gasp, air piercing my lungs, dots showering my vision like falling stars. Something tight like a vise was attached to my arms, a dull pain admitting from the spot but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“Claire,” I was shaking, or rather being shaken, while I wanted to open my eyes, to yell at the person shaking me to quit it I couldn't. My body was paralyzed, immobile and on fire at the same time. My body hurt, the way in which you might suddenly overwork an unused muscle resulting in days of soreness after the fact.

I couldn't move, I couldn't even get my brain to form a coherent sentence. It was like things were coming to me in one word intervals;

Pain. Can't. Move. Shaking.

"Come on Claire." the voice was growing anxious, panicked by the idea that I may not move again.

But that voice, I knew that voice. It was a comfort to me in these passing days. Not a comfort in the way a child may find their parents when frightened, or a woman seeking comfort from her husband. It was more elaborate and complicated then that. His voice was a reminder of my sanity; that I was not alone nor crazy in this place. He was reassurance and comfort.

Jared.

My eyes fought to open, the blinding light bearing down threateningly against my face, my eyelids instinctually closing.

"Please," his voice was desperate. "who am I going to talk to if you don't wake up? Who else am I going to fight with? Jesus Christ Claire, please."

"Ugh," I whimpered groggily.

"Claire!"

"Quit yelling," I croaked. I tested my limbs, all five fingers moving, my left arm flexing, but the right seemed almost be dead weight, not moving. Flexing the muscles in my arm was painful as though the muscle itself was nothing but a giant bruise.

Oh right...

"Jared,"

"Yeah."

"Let go of my arm." My mouth still wasn't working quite properly and it came out like, 'letgmaarm.' Apparently it was enough however because suddenly the blood was rushing to the tips of my fingers again.

"Sorry," he muttered sheepishly peering down at me with liquid cobalt eyes flooded with relief. “I thought…” He sat back on his heels, suddenly needing distance from the girl he panicked would never wake. “I thought you died.”

“I did.” I chocked struggling to sit upright and was suddenly thankful to find an arm around my back, propping me up. “I don’t know what happened.” I groaned rubbing my temple with one hand and my tired eyes with the other, trying to clear the fog from my mind. “There were people,” I was surprised and disappointed to find the details slipping from my mind faster than I could grasp them. “a little girl, a soldier, a guy with board shorts…” My mind was drifting away from me and I couldn’t stop my eyes from momentarily closing.

“Claire!” Jared started in alarm, his arm holding me tighter as his other arm hooked under my legs and he lifted me off the ground and into his arms. My head lolled to his shoulder like a marionette doll with cut strings. I was slipping away from myself again, my heart quickening with panic at the thought.

“Jared,” I breathed. I had to tell him, tell him I was falling away, disappearing. I had to tell him I needed to stay; I had to tell him to keep me awake. I had to tell him I cared…

Cared for what? My mind was filling with potholes, the sentences my brain produced where becoming gapped and bumpy with the disruption of forgetfulness.

“Just open your eyes.” Jared said it as though it were an easy, simple task; but the hint of panic in his voice alerted me that even he knew how hard that action alone was for me. “Tell me about the people.” He was moving faster now, desperate to get me to wherever he felt I needed to be. I wanted to tell him it was useless, no one could help me here; everyone was too lost in his or her own worlds to save me from my own.

“The people?” I breathed tiredly. Even if I could no longer form my own thoughts I would just repeat Jared’s words mindlessly, doing anything I could to stay here, stay with him. I just wanted to stay with him.

“Yeah, the people you said you saw when you…” But his voice trailed off. The unspoken word died hung heavily in the air now. “Tell me about them.”

“T-they, were stuck.” I remembered that much. “They were like us, but different.”

“Different how?” He prodded, grasping at anything to keep me talking as we moved.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled against his neck in frustration.

I felt him step up and I opened my eyes momentarily to see the entryway of the Theatre. He didn’t stop until we reached a lobby type room beside the office. A dark couch, ruby red to match the red velvet theme of the place, was pushed up against the back wall. The room was dimly lit for the only source of light appeared to be from a small chandelier suspended from the middle of the room, three of the five light bulbs blown out.

Jared ventured deeper into the room and gently laid me down on the couch, while he perched on the edge of it, hovering in concern.

“What was the name of that guy,” Jared began. His face clearly read of the scheme he was mulling over in his mind. “the one that you said just knew things…the one that said you would die.”

Through my haze and my struggle to recall anything at all, I seemed to instantly know whom Jared spoke of.

“I can’t—“ My eyes flickered to Jared and the excuse I was working up deflated. He just cared so much, too much, it was written all over his face and I just could not bare to make up some half baked excuse and lie to him. “Aiden can’t help me.” Were the words I settled for yet Jared did not seem to believe me.

His ocean blue orbs were studying every inch of my skin as though he would find a microscope blemish that oddly resembled the word liar. He pursed his lips, his eyes suddenly hardening with determination and purpose.

“I’ll be right back.” He assured finally as he rose to his feet.

“Jared no—“ But my protest muted when Jared’s hand covered my own and he bent over to kiss my forehead.

“I promise,” He murmured softly, his warm breath ghosting across my cold face. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He gave my hand a squeeze as though to pass some of his own strength onto me through the gesture. “Don’t close your eyes.”

And then his hand slipped from mine and he looked away, his eyes fixating on the door as he walked away with determination in his step—we both knew that if he looked back he wouldn’t leave.

I had no idea what Jared planned to do, only that it involved Aiden and I could only pray that he showed mercy on my caring savior.

I could feel my mind slipping again, creeping in like a thick fog I couldn’t see through.

It was then that I also began to pray that Jared hurried back.