Status: Complete - February 22, 2018
Haunting Grey
Eight
I open my eyes to white walls and beeping machines.
"Grey," someone says. "Don't move too much. You hit your head."
I blink at the person next to the bed. She stares at me with concerned eyes, and I try to smile but then I remember what happened back in the woods, and my stomach revolts. I want to throw up.
"Natalie."
"I'm here," she says, and reaches for my hand.
All I feel is cold air against my fingers.
"You're dead," I whisper. "You do know that, don't you? My dad said the police found your body." I shut my eyes. Try to breathe normally.
Then there's a new voice: "You're okay."
My father. He comes into the room, his eyes and face tired and gaunt. He probably hasn't slept much since the police told him what happened. Between that and my not coming home, he's got to be exhausted.
"I'm okay," I assure him. "Just a bit of a headache."
"That's expected," he replies, pulling a chair close to me and sitting down. "When you didn't come home after I called you, I thought the worst."
"How did you find me?" I ask.
"I didn't," he responded. "Someone called me and said they found you unconscious in the woods." He looks uncomfortable as he says this, but I don't have to ask why. Because then he tells me, "It was a girl. Grey, she sounded like Natalie."
"Grey," someone says. "Don't move too much. You hit your head."
I blink at the person next to the bed. She stares at me with concerned eyes, and I try to smile but then I remember what happened back in the woods, and my stomach revolts. I want to throw up.
"Natalie."
"I'm here," she says, and reaches for my hand.
All I feel is cold air against my fingers.
"You're dead," I whisper. "You do know that, don't you? My dad said the police found your body." I shut my eyes. Try to breathe normally.
Then there's a new voice: "You're okay."
My father. He comes into the room, his eyes and face tired and gaunt. He probably hasn't slept much since the police told him what happened. Between that and my not coming home, he's got to be exhausted.
"I'm okay," I assure him. "Just a bit of a headache."
"That's expected," he replies, pulling a chair close to me and sitting down. "When you didn't come home after I called you, I thought the worst."
"How did you find me?" I ask.
"I didn't," he responded. "Someone called me and said they found you unconscious in the woods." He looks uncomfortable as he says this, but I don't have to ask why. Because then he tells me, "It was a girl. Grey, she sounded like Natalie."