Status: Complete - February 22, 2018
Haunting Grey
Eleven
I have a dream about Natalie. She's alive, in the woods, and guiding me. Possibly guiding me to her body.
I always wondered why I didn't find it.
"You didn't want to see," she told me.
I opened my eyes to see one of the nurses standing next to my bed, her fingers wrapped around my wrist. She's checking my pulse.
"How are you feeling, Travis?" she asks quietly. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's okay," I said, shifting to sit up. "Is my dad here? I want to know when I can go home."
"Your father is getting coffee. He'll be here soon." She's busying herself with checking the machines and my bandages. "The police were by again, by the way."
"Great," I muttered.
"It's okay. I told them you were resting. They said to have your father call them later."
When the nurse moves from my view, I see Natalie, sitting on the window sill again. The sunlight frames her face, and when she turns to look at me, I remember that's she's not a whole person by any means anymore. My gut twists.
"Nat," I whisper.
"What did you say?" The nurse is looking at me suspiciously.
"I'm wondering about Natalie," I say. "My dad said they found her body in the woods, and I want to know what happened. I want to know if someone did that to her—with her face and all."
"I'm sure the police have answers," the nurse tells me. "You should talk to them once you get home."
"I'll do that."
"Good boy."
She's gone, and Natalie's there again, brushing her fingers along my cheek. But all I feel is cold. I shiver at her touch.
"You're cold," she says to me.
"I'm fine," I mutter, pulling the blanket around me. "I just want to go home to my bed and forget this nightmare."
"How's your head?"
Nat goes to touch the bandages, and I wince from the icy feeling. She doesn't see it, thankfully. She still doesn't understand what's happened to her.
I look at her and when she smiles, I imagine myself pulling her close. But before I can do anything, she puts her hand in mine.
Something passes through me, and my eyes fill with tears. Not just because I'm broken that she's dead.
It's because I can feel her.
I always wondered why I didn't find it.
"You didn't want to see," she told me.
I opened my eyes to see one of the nurses standing next to my bed, her fingers wrapped around my wrist. She's checking my pulse.
"How are you feeling, Travis?" she asks quietly. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's okay," I said, shifting to sit up. "Is my dad here? I want to know when I can go home."
"Your father is getting coffee. He'll be here soon." She's busying herself with checking the machines and my bandages. "The police were by again, by the way."
"Great," I muttered.
"It's okay. I told them you were resting. They said to have your father call them later."
When the nurse moves from my view, I see Natalie, sitting on the window sill again. The sunlight frames her face, and when she turns to look at me, I remember that's she's not a whole person by any means anymore. My gut twists.
"Nat," I whisper.
"What did you say?" The nurse is looking at me suspiciously.
"I'm wondering about Natalie," I say. "My dad said they found her body in the woods, and I want to know what happened. I want to know if someone did that to her—with her face and all."
"I'm sure the police have answers," the nurse tells me. "You should talk to them once you get home."
"I'll do that."
"Good boy."
She's gone, and Natalie's there again, brushing her fingers along my cheek. But all I feel is cold. I shiver at her touch.
"You're cold," she says to me.
"I'm fine," I mutter, pulling the blanket around me. "I just want to go home to my bed and forget this nightmare."
"How's your head?"
Nat goes to touch the bandages, and I wince from the icy feeling. She doesn't see it, thankfully. She still doesn't understand what's happened to her.
I look at her and when she smiles, I imagine myself pulling her close. But before I can do anything, she puts her hand in mine.
Something passes through me, and my eyes fill with tears. Not just because I'm broken that she's dead.
It's because I can feel her.