While She Breathes

I woke up and saw my ceiling wall in front of me. It was 10 in the morning and I had to close my eyes again to test the waters around me, or the sheets.

I had a terrible dream. And to make matters worse, it was about Riley.

In the dream, it was snowing, and I knew something was wrong. I didn’t why the hell I was in the woods, but I was. I was running through it, past dark branches and I was sick with worry. Then when I burst into an opening, I was at the mouth of a frozen lake.

I walked out, and suddenly there was a thudding sound, like I was suddenly thrust underwater. And I saw Riley, her hair floating the water, her fist and palms banging against the frozen surface of the lack. Only she was underneath it, drowning. I should have figured that it was a dream, because who has the energy to swim under thick layers of ice just to bang on it for attention if there already was a gigantic hole in the lake?

But dreams were irrational like that. I forgot what happened next, because it slipped through my mind like sand. The next thing I knew, I was beating the shit out of someone- surrounded by ice cold water. He was screaming, and we were thrashing. I was yelling at him about touching Riley, that she was drowining.

Then I left him gasping, in a fucking frozen lake as I fished myself out.

Again, I should have known it was a dream because I would never leave someone to drown, I didn’t want to go to jail. Plus I hated the cold, yet alone to swim in it.

Honestly, the horrifying part came next. I remembered my dream-self trudging back into the woods, the snow soft and squishy beneath my feet. And she was there, pale blue and shivering. Her hair lay plastered around her face and she was gasping for air, choking on water. How the hell did she get there anyway? Her lips were blue and her fingers were clenched around each other, and she couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t stop thinking of her face, gasping for air, dying in the cold.

Then in my dream, I had picked her up- and it was so vivid, the way she fit into my arms, her pale and slick skin against my face (why the fuck would it be against my face if I was cradling her?). And I had woken up, sick to my stomach.

As much as I liked to be a hero, the dream made me sick. I looked around my room- empty, as usual. My white sheets pooled around my ankles. Thank god I wasn’t naked because I had forgotten to shut my curtains the night before.

I stood absentmindedly at the window, staring out- thinking about Riley and that bruise I saw on her neck. I hated it when girls did this to me- made me feel protective over them. Riley had like a blazing sign over her head screaming ‘SAVE ME FROM MY BOYFRIEND’ that I was sure only I could see. I wondered if I liked her, I mean- I hadn’t even gotten to speak to her properly yet.

It was that thing, which I refused to admit to myself that I really was quite attracted to her because if I did I would be getting myself involved in her business. And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get involved.

I hadn’t realised that I had been standing there, staring at the city skyline for twenty minutes until my phone rang.

“Mr Turner?”

Yeah, get that- I had the same surname as that kid from The Fairly Oddparents. It was the only reason why I knew about that cartoon- because these older kids in my high school kept calling me Timmy when I was very clearly, a Luke.

“That is me,” I replied back, stifling a yawn. The person at the other side of the phone chuckled.

“I assume you would remember that you have an appointment with me today, approximately twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh, oh. I’ll be there in ten Doctor Sun,” I muttered- trying my best not to swear over the phone.

Holy fuck, I had totally forgotten about my check-up. I pulled on my pants, a shirt- grabbed a banana and momentarily forgot about both Riley and the fact that I hated going for check-ups.

*

“Ah, Mr Turner-“

“Luke, please,” I gestured, patting my hair down wildly because the girl at the reception was making me uncomfortable with the way she kept looking at my hair.

“Here’s your cup, you know how it goes,” she smiled, sliding a small plastic cup over to me and gestured to the toilet.

The pee test.

Part of my very lengthy check-up (which was honestly only twenty minutes because of how quick and efficient medicine had flourished in the past ten years) involved me peeing into a cup and dipping a strip of paper into it. I’ll spare you the details but basically I would have to give the strip of paper back to the counter, who would from there- examine the pH of my pee.

When you had as much metal and plastic in your body, much less a mechanical heart pumped by some form of ultra-sensitive battery- you have to make sure that the rest of your body still likes your little blood pumping friend to continue functioning.

I’ve heard of people who have had rusting of their bionic parts in their body, resulting in blood tissue rejection and all sorts of messy triads.

So I guess, as much as I hated check-ups, it’s always a better safe than dead choice to make.

*

“How’s it looking Doctor?” I asked, feeling the cold metal sting my palms as I sat with my legs hanging off his operating table.

Doctor Sun smiled, and I had a feeling that he didn’t appreciate me being late. Doctor Sun was only a student when he met me for the first time- and he was the head surgeon’s assistant when I was wheeled into the operating room- unconscious and bleeding to death with a failing heart. After ten years of working his butt off, he was now a fully pledged consultant on Bio-medic issues, and I wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with my heart than the man who was mostly involved in bringing me back to life again.

He peered at my bare chest and I looked down. I saw nothing, just a thin scar that indicated where I had been cut open.

“You’ve been working out Luke.”

“I mean my heart,” I replied dryly and Doctor Sun grinned.

He pressed a stethoscope to my chest and listened.

“Sounds good, still going strong. When’s your next charging?”

“Two months I think.”

Charging involved them putting me into a deep slumber, then attaching an electric circuit to the battery inside me to make sure that I had enough juice to not drop dead in the middle of the street. It was far more pleasant than this because after Doctor Sun was done listening to my ticking heart, he got me to lie down flat onto his operating table.

And it was almost like I could feel that day again- completely helpless, nothing but cold metal at my peripherals. Then he would poke and press at my skin, feeling the metal inside it. It felt weird, like I wasn’t healthy anymore. Occasionally something would move under my skin and it was a feeling I tried to ignore

“Everything under control, you alright there champ?”

I grunted, staring up at the bright scope lights and tried not to feel like I was a bug open for dissection. The next part just involved me standing behind an x-ray machine, so this was really the worst.

“So… you got a girlfriend yet?”

I glared at Doctor Sun who just shrugged as he continued pressing around my chest. Even though I was glad that he knew that I hated check-ups, I didn’t appreciate the relationship question.

“Nope,” I replied after a while.

“What does your mum think about that?”

“That I should make more informed life choices, and that I should get out more.”

This time Doctor Sun did laugh, a hearty sound.

“You’ll get one, shouldn’t be hard for a guy like you.”

“It’s not about a girlfriend, it’s about something more permanent. I’m 26 man,” I lamented. It was true. Everywhere I went, I felt ridiculously young and immature. Everyone was settling in and I was still floating, like a piece of shit.

“I’m 34 and I have three kids.”

I fell silent and wondered who would have kids with me.

“Sorry, not necessarily making you feel better am I.”

“Yup.”

We didn’t talk much after that.

*

After the appointment, I dropped by Kuppa’s to get some cake for my mother because I planned to visit her. A guy could only last a while before he started missing his mother. I was pretty sure that even if I did get a girlfriend that would last, I would spend Sundays visiting my mother as well.

She was literally the only woman patient enough to stick around.

I entered the coffee shop, pushing the deliberately vintage wooden door frame open. I felt funny after the appointment, as I always did. I felt less human than usual, like I knew a big part of me was fake and that if that was the miracle that kept me alive, what other miracles did I have?

I heard Geraldine even before I could see her. Her red hair poked out from behind the counter as she leaned heavily across it. She was like a tiny pixie some days, and on others- a hulking giant. Today she looked small, and tired.

“Hey Luke. She’s not here today.”

“I’m not looking for Riley… Are you okay?”

She gave me a withering smile, and I wondered how much of a life you had to have if you spent most of the weekend working at a coffee shop.

“Yeah, I guess. College is really stressing me out-“

“You’re still in college? How old are you?”

She gave me a strange look, like she wasn’t sure whether what I said was a compliment or a biting remark.

“I’m twenty, do I honestly look that old?” she asked sighing. I shrugged. She did, she held herself in a way that was far beyond her age. Plus she was always biting at Riley- so I didn’t peg her to be younger than me by a full six years.

“It’s probably because I talk like an old lady.”

“No… It’s cause you’re always looking at Riley like you’re her mum or something.”

She gave a short, bitter laugh. Amusement leaked through her voice and I wondered why.

“Mum? Me? If you’re twenty and you play for the other team I don’t think motherhood would be at the top of your list.”

I laughed, and I suddenly felt okay again. Talking to people made me feel this way, like I was tethered to more things than one. In a world of I think 10 billion people? Talking to people made my number feel slightly more significant. Maybe it was why I enjoyed working in management and relations.

I ordered three slices of lemon cake, and while I waited for Geraldine to pack the cakes, she suddenly asked me a question.

“Did she get home safe that day?”

“Riley? I mean, I gave her a ride to her bookshop-“

“You gave her a ride?” Geradline replied me like I had just burned her and she looked back at me with incredulous joy in her eyes.

“It wasn’t exactly 100% consensual,” I said before wincing cause it sounded like I was a pervert. She slid the box of cakes to me just as I paid her.

“Getting that girl into my car, yet alone a boy’s car has been impossible. So yeah, I’m pretty sure it was consensual.”

I raised a brow as she opened the cashier and plopped my money in it.

“Why do you harp on her so much anyway?” I asked and Geraldine paused halfway into taking out a fistful of change. She had a wistful look to her face, then she smiled- a broken smile that again made me suspicious if she was lying about her age.

“Experience I guess,” she finally said. There was some sort of click in my head but the pieces didn’t fit and I just stared at her.

“Look dude, she’s a close friend and a great girl. And I know what it’s like to be hurt and it’s not- it’s not like I have a crush on her or anything, okay?”

I nodded briefly, handing her a personal change of twenty dollars because similar to what Geradline said, I had been to college and it sucked to be broke and working every Sunday.