Chapter 21 The Real Recovery
THE REAL RECOVERY
Iwake up in a bed that is unfamiliar to me.
I try to open my eyes, but the spinning of the room quickly makes me dizzy, so I close them again.
My whole body is shaking and stiff, my brow damp with sweat.
I want to cry, but tears won’t come. I try to push myself up off the bed, but my body won’t obey.
The voices scream and cackle loudly in my head.
I sob quietly without tears until my exhausted body can no longer fight off the shadowy blackness, and it takes me, pulling me into darkness.
When I next open my eyes, there is a female face above me. “It’s ok, Chaosta,” she says quietly. “My name is Lily. Malam asked me to help you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut against the pain. When I open them again, her face is still above me.
“What hurts?”
“Everything,” I whimper.
She leaves the room and comes back a short while later. I feel her hand go around the back of my head, and she lifts it gently, holding a cup to my lips. “It’s just water,” she says quietly. “Try to drink a little, please.”
I manage a few sips, and she gently lowers my head to the pillow. Then I feel her lay a damp cloth over my forehead. It feels lovely against my hot skin. It’s soothing enough that I’m able to sleep again.
When I wake up next, my muscles feel stiff and my throat is thick, making it tough to swallow. The pain is less, and I don't feel like my body is on fire anymore. The door opens, and the woman who introduced herself as Lily steps into the room.
When she sees my open eyes, a smile draws across her face, lighting it up. Light hair curls to her shoulders. She’s tall for a woman. She moves across the room to the side of the bed, and I see that her eyes are green as she bends over me.
“Glad to see you awake, Chaosta. I think your fever broke. If you’re up to it, let’s get you changed out of those clothes.”
I nod at her shakily, and she pulls the covers back. It takes a lot of help from her to get my stiff body sitting at the edge of the bed, but we somehow manage it. My body still feels out of my control, and now that I’m sitting, I feel dizzy. I’m also still struggling to swallow.
“If you can just stay there, I can help with the clothes,” she says quietly. When I look at her, I can see her gaze assessing me.
I nod, closing my eyes again as the room spins.
Her cool, gentle fingers undo the buttons at the collar of the shirt I’m wearing. Then she gently pulls it over my head, helping me get my arms through the sleeves. I open my eyes and watch as she drops the shirt into a hamper in a corner of the room.
She turns around and heads back to the bed, but as I watch, she freezes, her gaze on my abdomen. She blinks a couple of times, and I squeeze my eyes shut again against another round of dizziness.
“Are you hurt?” she asks softly.
“I was, but it’s mostly healed,” I say quietly, my voice hoarse as it’s forced past my tight throat.
“May I?” she asks.
I nod.
Her cool fingers gently unwrap the bandage.
She’s quiet for a bit, but I’m thankful she doesn’t prod at the wound.
After a few minutes, I look up at her again, and it’s as though nothing is different as she helps me into a clean shirt.
I’m guessing it’s one of hers. The shirt is cool, the fabric smooth against my sensitive skin.
After the rough fabric of the uniform from Piquory Center, it is particularly welcome.
My pants are tougher to change. She eventually has me lie on my back as she helps me into loose, flowing pants in the same silky fabric. “They’re a little long,” she says as she smiles at me, “but hopefully more comfortable?”
“Much more comfortable,” I manage past my tight throat.
She helps me lie down and arrange myself again on the bed. She removes the blanket that was covering me, adds it to the hamper, and brings me a fresh cover. After she helps me drink a little more water, she leaves the room, and I sleep again.
Iwake later, feeling better than I have in a long time.
It’s still difficult to swallow, and my body is stiff and achy, but it feels like it’s under my control again.
Some voices still whisper to me, but they’re so quiet I can barely hear them.
As I wonder whether I should ask for some food and water, my stomach growling, I hear voices outside the door.
A male voice I recognize says, “Lilith, my love, how is our patient?”
Lily’s voice is slightly muffled as though her face is pressed against something, but I hear her say, “Improving, her fever finally broke. She’s still really sick, though, Malam. I’m worried.”
“They had her on powerful drugs, love. It will just take time, and with you caring for her, I’m sure she’ll make a quick recovery.”
“I thought she was recovering from addiction?” says Lily’s voice, quiet and curious and no longer muffled.
“That’s why Dio sent her there, but she’s not an addict.” Malam's voice has an edge to it.
There’s a pause, then Lily says, “How did she get injured?”
“What? Injured?”
“She has a wound in her abdomen that’s not fully healed. It’s recent.” Lily’s voice sounds hesitant. Then I hear her say, “Malam, don’t upset her,” and there’s an edge to her voice as well.
At that moment, the door to my room opens roughly, hitting the wall behind it as Malam strides into the room.
I startle at the crack of the door and then look up at him as he stands next to the bed, his shoulders tense. He’s glaring at my stomach as though he wants to tear the blanket off me, but he doesn’t move. He looks up at the wall behind the bed, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath.
“How did you get hurt, Chaosta?” he asks as he looks at me again. Though his voice is calm and composed, whatever is swirling in his expression screams of unleashed violence.
“I hurt myself,” I respond quietly. “Please don’t send me back,” I say as I close my eyes.
“Malam,” I hear Lily say from the doorway. It’s a warning of some sort. I hear footsteps, and when I look again, it’s Lily standing over the bed, and Malam is gone.
Lily smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s ok,” she says softly. “This is hard for him because he feels responsible. He just needs a little time.”
“So he won’t send me back?” I ask quietly.
“No,” she says, “you won’t ever go back there.”
I relax, and finally, tears begin to flow. Lily sits with me for a while, wiping the tears from my cheeks and holding my hand until I fall asleep again.
The next time I wake, I feel nearly like myself again. The voices are completely gone. I push myself up, feeling a little weak, but other than some pain in my abdomen, my body feels better.
I notice that the door is cracked open. I also see a cup of water on the table by the bed and my clothes laid out on a chair in the corner of the room. I pull off the soft shirt and pants and fold them neatly before dressing in some of my own things.
Strong emotions bubble up in my throat, but I don’t have time for them right now. There have been far too many emotions to deal with recently, and I’m tired. I’ll deal with it later.
I wander out the door and follow the smells of breakfast and glorious coffee into a small dining room with a table set under a window.
Malam sits at the table and looks up as I enter.
I freeze under his gaze, and the voices suddenly start up in my head.
This time, without the drugs confusing things, I recognize them as the intelligence and instincts that have helped me in every action until I went to the center.
With that, I relax, walk to the table, and drop into a chair.
Without meeting Malam’s gaze, I ask, “Can I have some coffee?”
He pushes an empty cup and a carafe of coffee to me without speaking. I pour myself a cup and sip it gratefully. The first joy I’ve felt in a long while perfuses my body.
I hear Lily walk in the door behind me. “Chaosta,” she says cheerfully, “you’re awake! Do you want breakfast?”
I nod, still focused only on the coffee in the cup in front of me. However, she must understand because moments later, she sets a plate full of bread, syrup, and some kind of meat in front of me.
As she takes a seat at the table, I hear her say, “Malam,” with a soft growl in her voice.
Another warning, although again I don’t understand why. This time, though, the intelligence in my head tells me I don’t care, so I dig into my breakfast without thinking further about it. However, the pressure in the room lets up, so that’s nice.
I finish clearing my plate, my stomach happily full and my heart filled with joy from the good food and coffee. Lily sets her hand gently on my arm, and I look up at her.
“Now that you’re feeling better, Malam is going to take you back to your home.” I watch as she looks across the table at Malam, her expression strangely annoyed. “Isn’t that right, Malam?” she prompts, her voice overly bright.
She stares across the table for a minute, and the energy in the room shifts again, the tension increasing. Then she looks back at my face, her eyes bright with joy. “It’s been lovely to meet you, even with the less-than-happy circumstances,” she says to me quietly. “You are welcome here anytime.”
“Thank you, Lily,” I mumble. As I glance at her, I note that her eyes are a little too bright.
“One minute,” she says with a forced cheerfulness. “I made you a small traveling bag with your things and some food for the road.” She leaves the room and comes back with a small linen bag that has a shoulder strap.
I take it from her with shaking hands and hang it over my shoulder.
Belatedly, I realize Malam is no longer here.
Lily directs me to the front door, where I see him pulling on his shoes.
As I pull my shoes on, he turns and leaves without a word.
Lily silently squeezes my arm, but her attention is on Malam as he walks out the door.
“Don’t worry,” she says quietly, “this too will blow over.” While she says it to me, I have the feeling she might actually be speaking to herself.
I thank her again, and with that, I walk out the door behind him.