Thirteen
Pain finds me before consciousness trickles in.
It blooms deep inside my skull, pulsing with every heartbeat until I can’t tell where my body ends and the agony begins.
I fight for a breath, but even that betrays me.
When air catches in my chest, it’s sharp enough to make tears sting behind my closed eyes.
Somewhere nearby, people are shouting. Their voices ebb and flow like waves rolling against the shore, some close enough to touch, others disappearing into the distance before I can comprehend their meaning.
The rough smell of tar mixes with that of gasoline, and something metallic.
Blood.
I don’t know how I know it’s blood. I simply do.
“I’ve got you.” The sound of Dave’s soothing voice cuts through everything else. I cling to it in much the same way a drowning person reaches for driftwood. My eyelids feel impossibly heavy, but I force them apart just enough to find him.
His face swims in and out of focus above me, his expression stripped of everything but worry.
Tense lines furrow his brow and pinch the corners of his eyes.
I can see his phone is pressed against his ear, but his hand wraps tightly around mine.
He squeezes, and I squeeze back, but without the amount of strength I attempt to summon.
I need him to know I’m still here and, though my fingers barely move, he feels it.
He pulls the phone away. “I need you to stay with me. Help is on the way.”
A violent wave of dizziness crashes over me, threatening to pull me under. Before it can, another voice reaches me, rough with emotion I’ve never heard from him before.
“Stay awake, baby.”
Daddy.
I feel his presence and the sound of his pained voice splinters something inside me.
Dad’s protective, but not obtrusive. Hearing his fearful tone terrifies me more than the pain exploding in my body.
I don’t want him to have a heart attack, and I try to tell him I’m okay, but my shivering lips and chattering teeth won’t cooperate.
They refuse to form words, and the frustration of it all instantly burns a hole in me nearly as fierce as the pain I feel.
“Oh, my God… Charity!”
Mom.
The terror in her voice becomes all consuming. This must be bad. I’ve heard my mother furious, disappointed, and impatient, but I’ve never heard her frightened.
Warm fingers brush against my cheek. I close my eyes for a moment.
There is nothing like a mother’s touch. No matter our differences, she comforted me when I was sick or sad, and her hugs were my safety zone.
We didn’t butt heads until I was a teenager, and even then, I always knew she was available whenever I needed her.
“Ma’am, I need you to step back.”
The command belongs to a stranger. Hands cradle my head with practiced confidence while another pair steadies my shoulders. A bright light sweeps across my eyes, running a searing pain within my skull.
“Can you hear me, ma’am?”
I blink and attempt a nod.
“Good. Stay with us.”
The command echoes until there’s nothing more.
Stay with us…stay with us...stay…with…us…
Voices overlap one another with a calm efficiency that feels strangely comforting. Dave launches into an explanation. His muffled words tumble one over another in a rush, desperate to tell them everything before precious seconds disappear.
“The puppy flew out into the street and she went after it. A car came flying around the corner. She…” His voice catches. “It threw her in the air like a ragdoll.”
I feel warmth against my scalp as blood travels through my hair. Thoughts begin to gel, and things are beginning to make sense. I hold onto fragments. A hint of perfume. A rigid collar around my neck. Three voices. Two male and one female.
“One… two… three.”
The lyrical harmony is brief and then the world rolls sideways. White-hot pain explodes through me, forcing a wail from my throat before I realize I’ve made a sound.
“Easy,” someone says. “I’ve got you.”
I’ve got you.
A memory of those same words Dave said to me now drift in someone else’s voice, meandering through the foggy thoughts. I drift back and suddenly I’m in the parking garage with a trembling black puppy tucked inside my shirt.
I’ve got you.
The memory slips away before I can hold onto it.
When I next open my eyes, the ambulance is moving. Every bump in the road rattles my head until nausea viciously coils in my stomach. A plastic mask covers my face as cool air teases me to take fresh oxygen into my lungs.
“Can you tell me your name?”
I know the answer, but it scampers away before I can hold onto it.
“I’m riding with her.” Dave announces.
“Sorry, sir. You’ll have to follow us.”
The doors slam shut and darkness reaches for me again.