Death is My BFFLAD Rewritten (Book 2 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 17:Qui Vivra Verra

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* * *

The faces were talking again.

Or at least I thought they were. Is that my name they keep saying? They were such distorted, exaggerated things. I wanted them gone.

But they just kept coming back. Just like the dream repeated over and over again, like clockwork.

One moment I would be driving down a road near my house, listening to my favorite band. Each time I went down the street, there were big overgrown trees drumming their leaves along the side of my car. I would roll my window down to get a breeze I could never quite feel. Somewhere down that road I become frightened. Darkness would claim the vehicle and me in an ominous swirl of black, and in the darkness, the faces would appear. Their voices never match their mouths. They talked backwards often, overlapping like poor radio stations.

In and out the darkness I would fall. Alone, weightless, as if I were in space. Sometimes it felt nice to be there. Was I dreaming? Don't leave me. 

I won't.

The faces. They were back. I tried to tell them to leave. I felt my body moving and yet I was immobile. Nothing made sense. Could the faces hear me? Why couldn't I speak? Hello?

Everything shattered into a kaleidoscope of fissured images and sounds. I tried to understand them but the darkness had returned, livider than before. This time, no faces appeared. There was no sound, too. I thought I was alone. Was I? No, I wasn't. Don't leave me.

I won't.

* * *

My eyes hit a white ceiling.

Beeping played incessantly in my ears. I looked around and everything was blurred. Oh God! Snakes. There were translucent snakes on my arms! I started ripping them out of my skin, but my muscles felt strangely heavy and I felt lethargic. Still, I pulled at them and the snakes became clear tubes. I started coughing, gagging, and pulled at a ventilator in my lungs.

"Faith?"

"Faith."

"Faith, it's alright. We're right here, baby."

New voices entered the room, becoming muffled. Hands clutched at my arms and legs as I thrashed. I was strapped down, sweating and shaking. My lids grew heavy and I relaxed. Familiar blue eyes drifted over me as my vision blurred again.

Mom.

* * *

"Well I'm happy to be the bearer of good news today," Dr. Helsing was saying, glancing again at the clipboard the nurse had handed off to him on her way out. He was young (for a doctor) and had thick black hair and twinkling emerald eyes.

"Your CAT scan results were good, and your vitals are stable," he continued, and glanced a moment at the colorful bouquet of flowers next to my bed. He scooted his gliding chair to the side a little, away from the nightstand. "Despite some bruising and cuts and a concussion, your recovery has been remarkable. Had you not been wearing your seatbelt, I expect we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."