You need to listen to me. I don’t know what’s happening out there, but you need to come and help me.
You need to know what’s coming. I’m at Harcourt Memorial, the one down in Pine Haven.
Send help.
I was clinically dead for three minutes after the accident. Narrowly avoided brain damage. But I think I brought something back with me. From some… other place.
My buddy John and I were dirt biking up in the dunes last Thursday like we’ve been doing since middle school. I guess we never really grew out of it. We were basically the same loser kids in college that we had been back then. And of course, we were without helmets.
Bunch of idiots we were.
We had gotten bored with the usual routes, so John suggested we go off to the border between the beach and this disused chemical factory. Never tried out this area before cuz all this grass was growing out of the sand and it was hard to tell where you could ride safely or not.
But hey, live wild, right?
Fucking joke.
John hit this one dune and got some nice air off it. I was right behind him. In midair, he bailed and let himself fall off his bike to avoid going forward while his bike kept flying. He landed on the sand right in front of me.
Too late for me to get the hint since I had just hit the jump and was rocketing up and over him.
Beyond the dune was a steep drop into a concrete ditch. The grass in front of it, and some dunes on the other side of it, hid it completely from sight. We should’ve checked what was on the other side before jumping, but like I said, we were idiots.
The last thing I remember was my bike saying adios and snapping in two beneath me, next to John’s, in the ditch below.
There was this sharp snap sound that I can still hear, even now.
Then it was just darkness.
Later, John said it was like my body became a rag doll, even in the air. Almost like I was floating for a moment. I guess I passed out from the fear before my feet slammed into the concrete.
Ankles shattered. Knees dislocated. Multiple fractures all over my legs. Fractured my spine but thankfully the spinal cord wasn’t damaged so I avoided paralysis. Skin looked like I had been scraped over by a cheese grater.
And yeah, I died. Heart called it quits and my breathing stopped for a full three minutes.
John raced down the ditch and did CPR on me. Well, what he could remember from watching The Sandlot while stoned at least.
Somehow, that dipshit saved my life.
The paramedics came soon after and carted me off to the hospital. I have no memory of this.
What I do remember from that time only comes to me in fragments. At first, I thought it was just some nightmare I had fallen into while my body fought to survive.
I could see the paramedics hoisting me up.
Then there was this black river to my left. Vague shapes rising up out of it, like people wrapped tightly in cloth, and this moaning sound that sounded more animal than person.
Then the closing of ambulance doors.
Next was darkness. Freezing and painful darkness.
I woke up the next day with both of my legs in a cast and bandages wrapped all over my body.
Doctor Stephens was there to greet me. With a pretty redhead nurse named Julia at his side.
“Look who’s awake,” he said.
He had a mane of silver hair and tiny glasses with powerful lenses. Though he spoke softly, I could see disappointment etched into his grimace. My father taught me to recognize that look well.
“What happened?” I asked groggily. Even blinking hurt.
He told me about the accident and my injuries. Add a moderate concussion to all the broken bones. No internal bleeding or skull fractures, at least.
“A miracle,” he said with no enthusiasm.
“When can I go home?”
“You have to wait until you’re well enough to be discharged. I’d say,” he looked up at the ceiling while he licked his lips, “at least six weeks. And you’ll need rehabilitation for at least a month or two after that.”
It felt like my body fell through the bed. “I don’t have insurance.”
His grimace bowed into a full on scowl. The nurse tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
To save you all the details, they were going to release me after I could manage the pain, so I’d only be under their care for a week, tops. And no rehab for me. I couldn’t bring myself to ask how much the emergency transport and everything else was. I worked at a music store, there was no way in hell I’d ever be paying all this off.
On top of that, I had credit card debt and owed my dad money for my dirt bike.
At the time, debt was what was terrifying. My father more so.
How I wish for those problems now.
That first night, they put me on hydromorphone, which I had never heard of before. Let me tell you, that stuff will fuck you up way more than pot ever could. I’d done acid before, and this hydro stuff didn’t alter my perception like that. Instead, it bathed me in a peace of complete non-feeling. After twenty-eight years of life, I had found Nirvana; it was a tube shoved into my veins.
It was like I was floating in water.
I never wanted to leave that sensation. Like a mother’s hug. The drug quickly carried me off to sleep.
I dreamt of that black river again. Much more vividly this time. I was waist deep in the water now. My nerves crackled like I was walking naked in the snow. There was no shoreline that I could see, everything was too dark. But it felt like there were people up there on the dry land, watching me, afraid to join me, doing everything they could to keep from falling in.
A cloth-wrapped thing that looked like a person glided by like a floating log. It lashed out an arm webbed to its side like a bat’s wing, but couldn’t grab me. It moaned like it was in pain, yet it was furious at the same time. I fell backwards into the water and splashed my way to the shore. Grabbed a hold of something like rotten wood. Felt a grip that crushed my right ankle. No one on the shore would help me.
I woke up trying to scream, but my throat was too hoarse. Darkness filled my hospital room, except for a light under the closed door.
I breathed heavily and tried to focus on calming myself down. Even my liquid enlightenment failed me then.
I heard something shuffle on the floor. Like a blanket being dragged. I tried to lift myself up, but couldn’t move. Couldn’t even shut my eyes. A feeling like ice spread through my veins.
The shuffling was at the foot of my bed. A metal tray fell to the floor. Something tugged at the sheet by my left foot. I heard sniffing like an animal tracking prey.
A hunched black shape rose and stood tall by my feet. It was too dark to see it clearly. I did see that its head touched the ceiling.
Golden hall light flooded the room as the door opened.
The thing was gone.
Julia stepped in with a smile that should have banished my fear, but it didn’t.
I could move now. Like invisible hands had been holding me down and suddenly disappeared. I flailed my arms and screamed. The movement shot pain throughout my spine. Julia dropped her chart and rushed over to me.
“Hey, hey it’s okay now,” she said.
I couldn’t speak. Only point at the foot of my bed. She followed my gaze and looked back at me.
“I’m going to make the pain go away, okay?”
She upped the drugs, and I passed out.
There were no nightmares that night. No dreams. That night was probably the best sleep I had ever gotten in my life.
When I woke up around noon, John was sitting in a chair to my left, reading a magazine with a woman dressed in a skimpy bunny outfit on the cover.
“Look who decided to join the fucking living,” John said as he dropped the magazine on my lap. He stood and gave me a hug. Patted my right shoulder, which sparked to life in electric pain.
I winced, and he backed off. “Whoa, sorry dude.”
“It’s okay, just be gentle with the merchandise, yeah,” I said.
He sat back down. “Don’t go being a pussy on me now just because you died.” He laughed like a child. As much as I hated this guy sometimes, his joy was infectious, even now.
“Don’t worry about me. As soon as I get out of here, I’ll show you what a real man is.”
“Yeah? Like, teach me how to kiss and stuff?”
“Fuck you.” I wanted to sock his shoulder, but even the thought of moving hurt.
John’s smile faded. He furrowed his brows. An uncharacteristic look of concern came over him. “You feeling okay? They said you died, man.”
“I mean, everything hurts. And I have no idea how I’m going to pay for all this shit. But yeah, aside from that, I’m fine,” I snapped.
I immediately regretted acting so irritated with him. John had saved my life and was here for me, while I was acting all bitter about it
“Sorry, man. And… you know, thanks for saving my life and stuff.”
“Yeah, well, if we would’ve just checked out what was on the other side, we wouldn’t be here. It’s my fault. I wanted to go out there and all.”
“Don’t stress it.”
He smirked and picked up the magazine from my lap. Flipped it open and showed me, well, you know.
“This will help you pass the time. But I’m not holding your wang for you,” he said.
Just then, Julia stepped into the room. John jumped up and tried to hide the magazine under his ass, but ended up accidentally throwing it at her feet.
“Yeah, uh, later dude.” John bolted out of the room.
Julia looked at the magazine but didn’t show any reaction to it on her face. But she did kick it away from her. She was holding a tray of some lame hospital food for me. Set it down on the table by my head.
“How are you feeling, Marcus?”
“Super. Sorry about… that,” I nodded at the magazine on the floor. I don’t know why I felt the need to bring it up. The embarrassment filling me up was almost on par with my pain.
Thankfully, she ignored it. She checked the IV to make sure the wonder drug was still pumping me full of bliss. I thought about coming off of it next week and how awful that was going to be. I had done nothing like heroin before and dreaded the thought of having withdrawals. That’s how strong this shit was.
“Is it,” I began. She looked up at me from the IV bag. “Am I going to be okay? After I leave the hospital?”
She put her warm hand on my right shoulder. “Of course it is.”
Julia smiled and left the room.
I wanted to believe in what she said.
But I knew she was lying.
Night came, and I passed the time watching TV and trying to text on my phone. Both tasks proved too painful, so I tried my hand at shutting my eyes and meditating. Shut off the TV and eventually the lights to my room.
I started dozing off when that shuffling sound came back.
I had thought the previous encounters to be nothing more than bad dreams brought on by stress and the drugs.
But this time, I was fully awake when it started.
The blanket dragging sound was in the room's corner, under the TV. I opened my eyes and tried to sit up.
But I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. That same heavy ice in my veins. All I could do was move my eyes to track the sound.
A new sound came with the shuffling.
It was like running water coming from somewhere under my bed.
Then came the moaning. Sorrowful and angry.
Fear nearly collapsed my mind. I tried to move with everything I could muster, but my body refused to obey me.
Something grabbed the sheets by my feet.
I saw a shadow block out the light from the hall coming in under the door. Somebody was out in the hall and I desperately tried to scream for their attention.
My blanket slid down from my neck and chest. Slid all the way off me and fell to the floor.
The tall black shape rose by my feet.
Sniffing the air.
Moaning a single word.
“Marcus.”
Part 2 is coming in 2 weeks!
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Man, you brought back memories with these vivid hospital scenes and the murkiness of dreams and drugs blending with reality. Well done!
Marcus's helplessness in his situation, being crippled and confined to a hospital bed, adds to the feeling of dread.