40. Aria
40
ARIA
I s she going to make it?” I hear a low female voice somewhere in the distance as I cling to consciousness with all the strength I can muster. The urgency in her voice pierces through the fog.
My eyelids flutter, the fluorescent lights overhead harsh against my eyes.
A male responds. I try to focus on his words, but his voice is muted, distant, as if coming from the end of a long tunnel. “ Bullet wound to the chest…fractured ribs…significant internal bleeding…” Holy fuck. How am I alive ?
The words float in and out, and I strain to grasp their meaning, to make sense of it all.
“… Head trauma…concussion…potential memory loss…”
My heart skips a beat, panic clawing at the edges of my mind, threatening to consume me. How much of myself will I lose?
I swim in and out of focus. I just want to sleep so badly.
The woman’s voice reappears. I think it’s Mama . It sounds like she’s crying.
“ My poor baby,” she sobs. Then , I hear another male voice. “ She’ll be okay, Mama . She’s tough. You know this.” Dimo .
I try to open my eyes and reach out to them, but I can’t. Every breath is an effort, a sharp stab of pain radiating from where the bullet pierced my flesh.
Despite the agony, I cling to those voices.
As the doctor continues to drone on, my vision blurs and darkens. My eyelids feel heavy, as if weighed down by chains, and I struggle to stay awake. The throbbing in my head intensifies.
A wave of exhaustion washes over me, dragging me down. I try to fight it, but my grip slips, and I’m pulled under.
“ How the fuck did this happen?”
The words buzz in my ears.
“ We’ll push back the wedding… As soon as she’s recovered.”
I try to decipher the rest of the conversation, but it slips through my grasp like smoke.
My head is in so much pain. It’s pulsing throughout my entire body.
“ Philip …dead.”
Doesn’t matter…still going through with it.”
The words strike me like a thunderbolt. My father... dead ? The realization hits me with a force that steals the breath from my lungs. My baba is dead.
In my confusion, my body reacts, causing my heartbeat to skyrocket to dangerous levels.
The monitors around me blare, their shrill cries breaking the stillness that surrounds me. My muscles tense and spasm uncontrollably as my body convulses, each movement sending shards of pain through me.
“ Get her sedated, now!”
“ We need… heart rate down!”
Through the fog of my panic, I catch shadows of figures and flashing lights as they fight to wrestle me back from the brink of oblivion.
The sedative takes hold, and the world fades to black.
The world around me feels disjointed— I’m here but I’m not.
I can’t seem to penetrate the dreamlike state I’m in. And my body refuses to let me open my eyes and come back to reality.
A familiar voice breaks through the haze, sounding angry, desperate. “ Let me in…”
Another voice filled with concern and perhaps a hint of warning. “ You shouldn’t be here…if Andrew … I can’t help you.”
It feels like I’m eavesdropping on a private conversation.
“ I don’t give a fuck…not scared… I need to see her.”
My heartbeat races. Dion .
He’s here.
A fragrance envelops me.
As I slowly come to, the familiarity of the smells around me floods me with a sense of nostalgia and warmth.
I inhale the soothing scent, and I’m transported back to my studio, surrounded by buckets of blooms.
“ How much longer… awake?” My mother’s voice trembles. I can clearly tell it’s her this time.
How long have I been here?
“ Not sure… Any day.” The doctor’s response is measured, cautious.
I want to reassure her, to tell her that I’m fighting to wake up, that I’m here, somewhere, listening to every word.
But the darkness tugs at me, and I cling to the sound of her voice.
I can’t quite open my eyes, but the sweet scent of flowers envelops me once more.
I hear a familiar voice.
“ Astéri mou, please…wake up.”
As I remain suspended between wakefulness and dreams, Dion’s soft words become my lifeline, pulling me gently back to reality.
His presence stirs something in my chest. I can feel his touch, warm and reassuring.
Is he the one who brought me flowers?
His fingers brush against my hand, a tender caress that sends ripples of sensation through me.
“ I’m scared,” he admits, his voice cracking with emotion. “ I don’t know what…if I lost you...” The haziness returns, and I have a hard time making out all the words.
“ I need…” he continues. “ You’re my… and I can’t bear the thought of… Come back to me.”
His plea echoes in my mind, and I try to break free from the darkness.
“ We can’t tell her…new brother…”
What the fuck?
“ She deserves to know…” Dimitri is speaking to someone on the phone. There’s something off about his tone, something I can’t quite grasp.
“ I’ll talk to her…wakes up. She’ll want to meet him.”
Him ?
Dimitri’s voice fades into the background.