27 - Harper
A steady beeping from the heart monitor pulsates in rhythm with the faint hum of the air conditioning. The sterile smell of antiseptic lingers in the air. My eyelids flutter, a small, involuntary twitch, before they crack open a sliver.
“Harper?” Alessia’s voice is soft, cautious, and tinged with desperation.
She sits upright in the uncomfortable chair beside the hospital bed, the boo she’d probably been pretending to read slips from her lap to the floor with a soft thud.
Her dark hair is mussed from countless hours of leaning against her hand, her eyes rimmed red from lack of sleep and tears.
I blink again, then squint against the faint light. I struggle to focus, my thoughts sluggish and scattered as if trying to piece together a puzzle with missing edges.
“Hey, hey,” Alessia says, leaning forward, her hand instinctively reaching for mine.
“Take it easy. You’re okay. Just… just go slow.”
My gaze drifts around the room, my brows furrowing. I wet my lips with difficulty, my voice coming out hoarse and fragile.
“Alessia?”
A sob catches in Alessia’s throat, and she squeezes my hand tightly. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”
Panic creeps into me, “Where am I? What happened?”
“You’re in the hospital,” Alessia says quickly, her voice firm but soothing. “You where shot. But you’re safe now. You’re awake. That’s what matters.”
My mind churns, trying to grasp memories that slipped through my fingers like sand. “How…how long?”
“Three weeks,” she says softly. “You’ve been unconscious for three weeks.”
My eyes widen, and my breathing quickens. “Three weeks?”
“Harper, breathe. Look at me,” Alessia says, her hands moving to cradle mine.
“I’ve been here the whole time. You’re okay now. We’ll take it one step at a time. Just breathe.”
My gaze locks onto Alessia’s, my chest rising and falling as I try to calm myself. Alessia’s steady presence, the warmth of her hands, and the depth of her eyes are like anchors pulling me back from the edge of panic.
“You stayed?” My voice cracks.
“Of course I stayed,” Alessia says, her voice breaking with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere, Tesoro.”
Tears we ll in my eyes, a mix of gratitude and fear. I feel weak, disoriented, but not alone. I squeeze Alessia’s hand as tightly as I can manage. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
“Thank you,” my voice trembling.
Alessia shakes her head, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
“You don’t have to thank me. Just focus on getting better. I’ll be here, waiting.”
The room falls quiet again, save for the steady beeping of the monitor and the soft sound of our breathing.
Alessia doesn’t leave her spot next to me, her thumb brushing gentle circles over my hand, a silent promise in her touch.
My eyelids grow heavy again, but this time, as I drift back to sleep, it is with the comfort of knowing I am safe.
The next morning, I wake up with the scent of coffee filling my senses. GOD, I’ve missed coffee. Alessia is sitting on her chair next to me, cup in hand and another on the table beside my bed.
“Hi,” I clear my throat, “Is that one for me?”
“Good morning gorgeous, yes, it is.” Alessia gets the remote to raise my back and hands me the cup.
I take a sip and it’s like black heaven on my tastebuds. We sit in silence as we both drink our coffee.
“Do you want to take a shower?” Alessia asks, “I can help you.”
“I don’t want you to help me. Sorry, that came out harsher than I intended. It’s just…”
“It’s just what?”
“I don ’t think I’m ready to be naked in front of anyone right now…” My voice so soft I don’t even know if she heard me. Alessia’s eyes darken with anger and I sink back in my pillows.
I know I’m broken; I’m damaged goods. I don’t want her to see my used and tortured body.
I haven’t seen it in weeks but I can only guess that my body is littered with scars.
And that’s only the half of it. My soul might never recover from this.
Ever since I woke up, I feel hollow and dark inside.
Yes, I love seeing Alessia and being alive and all, but it feels like something inside me is missing.
Like it bled out of me on that marble floor, unable to be a piece of me again.
I lift my covers and swing one leg over the side of the bed. Alessia stands to help me up and supports me to the bathroom. She lowers me onto the shower stool and her eyes dart over me. I can see the pain and anger in her eyes.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”
“Yes, I’m sure. You can wait outside. I’ll call you if I need help, besides there’s an emergency bell here.” I point at the red string that’s strung throughout the bathroom.
“Okay… There are clothes in the cubicle for you.”
Alessia bends down to kiss me on top of my head and then she leaves me.
I strip away the hospital gown and stand to look in the mirror.
My body is covered in scars, some are thin, others are thick ridges across my stomach and chest. I stare at myself for a long time, not able to comprehend what they did to me be cause I wasn’t conscious when it happened.
Tears land on the ravaged skin. I wipe them away and step into the shower.
I turn on the water and let it take those same tears down the drain.
I listen to the steady clatter of the water and close my eyes. Images flash before me of Anna and I’m sucked back into the memory of finding her.
“ANNA!” I scream at the top of my lungs. I’m not able to shut out the memory. I scream again and again and don’t even notice that Alessia comes in the bathroom. I scream and claw at her.
“Harper, I’m here. Snap out of it. I’m here, you’re save.” I hear somewhere in the distance.
“ANNA, WHERE ARE YOU?”
I thrash against someone’s grip, my body caught between the past and the present. Her voice is soft, but firm, like an anchor trying to steady me in a storm. I claw at her shirt, my nails digging into her skin as I struggle to get free, to find Anna.
“Harper, it’s me!” Alessia’s voice pierces through the haze, more insistent now. “You’re here, in the bathroom. Anna isn’t here. You’re safe.”
But I’m not safe. The water keeps pouring, pounding against the tiles like the rush of blood in my ears. My breaths come in short, ragged bursts, and I swear I can still hear Anna’s voice, soft and pleading, calling for help from somewhere just beyond my reach.
I sink t o the floor, my knees hitting the cold tiles with a jolt that doesn’t even register. Alessia follows me down, her arms around my shoulders, holding me tightly.
“Harper, listen to me,” she says again, her voice shaking but steady. “You’re not alone. I’m here. You’re not back there.”
Her words filter through, splintering the dark memory that’s gripped me like a vice. My screams turn to sobs, violent and gut-wrenching, and Alessia holds me tighter, her hand stroking my hair, whispering words I can’t fully process. The clatter of the water becomes unbearable.
“Turn it off,” I manage to choke out between heaving breaths. Alessia doesn’t hesitate. She moves quickly, leaning past me to shut off the faucet. The sudden silence is deafening, and it leaves me exposed, raw.
I bury my face in my hands. “Where is she?” I whisper the words like broken glass on my tongue.
“We haven’t found her yet,” Alessia says softly, but with conviction. “We won’t stop looking for her.”
Her words hang in the air, but I can’t take them in yet. The memory of Anna feels too vivid, too heavy. But Alessia’s presence, her warmth against my trembling body, keeps me grounded, just enough to keep the darkness from swallowing me whole.
“I’m here,” she repeats. “You’re not alone.”
For the first time in what feels like forever, I allow myself to lean into her, to accept her comfort. It doesn’t make the pai n go away, but it gives me something to hold onto, something real.
Alessia carries me back to bed and I fall asleep again, haunted by nightmares. Alessia tries all she can to comfort me but it’s no use. I’m surrounded by a darkness that swallows me whole, a place where no one can reach me. Not even the woman I love.