Second Chance
Blurred
I open my eyes.
Everything is unclear. No matter how hard I try, I can't bring my surroundings into focus.
The blurriness begins to reside, until the image before me is covered in a only a slight film of fog.
I am able to make out a woman. Sitting up, in a hospital bed. There are scrapes all over her face. Her arm is in a sling.
I try to make sense of this.
She looks up at the doctor standing at her bedside, with desperate eyes, seeming to be awaiting an answer to a question.
"I'm sorry, Ellen. He didn't make it," the doctor says finally.
A watered-down form of recognition washes over me at the sound of him saying her name, like taking a sip of sprite after all the ice has melted.
At this, her eyes well. Somewhere deep down, I feel the urge to go toward her, to comfort her. To kiss those tears away as they fall. But it seems that the fog is set deep within me, numbing everything, keeping me rooted to where I am.
"And the baby?" she whispers.
"The baby is fine. You're very fortunate, Ms. McHale." With that, he turns and exits the room.
The woman begins to cry harder.
Something inside me twinges. Something like confusion maybe. Yes, that's it I think. But I've no idea why. I've no idea who this woman before me is, what has happened to her, why she is crying.
I just know that I have to make it stop. I have to make sure she is okay. I must take care of her.
Before I can figure anything more, I fade.
Everything is unclear. No matter how hard I try, I can't bring my surroundings into focus.
The blurriness begins to reside, until the image before me is covered in a only a slight film of fog.
I am able to make out a woman. Sitting up, in a hospital bed. There are scrapes all over her face. Her arm is in a sling.
I try to make sense of this.
She looks up at the doctor standing at her bedside, with desperate eyes, seeming to be awaiting an answer to a question.
"I'm sorry, Ellen. He didn't make it," the doctor says finally.
A watered-down form of recognition washes over me at the sound of him saying her name, like taking a sip of sprite after all the ice has melted.
At this, her eyes well. Somewhere deep down, I feel the urge to go toward her, to comfort her. To kiss those tears away as they fall. But it seems that the fog is set deep within me, numbing everything, keeping me rooted to where I am.
"And the baby?" she whispers.
"The baby is fine. You're very fortunate, Ms. McHale." With that, he turns and exits the room.
The woman begins to cry harder.
Something inside me twinges. Something like confusion maybe. Yes, that's it I think. But I've no idea why. I've no idea who this woman before me is, what has happened to her, why she is crying.
I just know that I have to make it stop. I have to make sure she is okay. I must take care of her.
Before I can figure anything more, I fade.