Darkness faded in and out for Andria Huffton while red and blue lights flashed through the windows. A chill settled over her body and she felt curious if the season in Denver, Colorado had begun to shift to winter. A wind gusted and she shivered. Her eyes felt heavy, her head pounded, and her chest hurt. She brought her hand up and looked at the back of it, then her palm. Both were covered in blood. But why?

She felt disoriented, like vertigo was plaguing her mind. She closed her eyes and tried to get her head to stop pounding. When she opened her eyes again, she looked up to the ceiling of her home and realized she was on her back. Movement caught her attention and with a slow blink, she looked toward the commotion across the room.

Two police officers held a man. She could just make him out, but knew it was her ex-boyfriend, Draven Combs. Blood was smeared next to him on the floor, hell, there were pools of it there.

Is it my blood? she thought. The cream-colored paint would be stained. Will I get my deposit back? Do I care about that right now? she asked herself.

Everything in the room seemed to be coated in red. It was as if she were wearing glasses with red lenses. She thought that odd. Blinking, she cleared her vision.

Where is my sister?

With a turn of her head, she looked the other way and found her sister, Suzy, lying still on a stretcher. Someone was talking her to and she watched Suzy’s lips move. She was fine by all accounts.

“Andria? Andria, can you hear me?”

Andria looked up to a man standing over her, squatting down. He wore an officer’s uniform. She blinked and furrowed her brows. “My head hurts really bad.”

“No doubt that it does,” the man responded. He pulled the black walkie-talkie on his shoulder to his mouth and spoke. “I need another stretcher in here and a few EMTs. She has a stab wound and a head injury. Make it quick.” He returned his attention to her and smiled, pressing his hands on her chest. “What do you remember of the events, Andria?”

“Events?” she asked. She closed her eyes and flashes of what took place only moments ago appeared before her.

Screams.

Crying.

Fists, not hers.

A knife.

Her father.

Her eyes opened and she met the gaze of the concerned officer. “Where is my father?”

He looked up at two EMTs as they approached. “Your father,” he started and met her eyes once more. “We’ll talk about your father once you’re safe and stable in the hospital.”

“Stable? What happened?” she whispered. “Ow,” she cried out and looked to where one of the men pushed a needle into her arm. “What did you…oh wow…yeah, I don’t feel anything now.” She relaxed on the floor as a brace was secured around her neck. She felt something hard move underneath her, but she had no cares in the world.

“Andria, Andria, I love you! I’ll come back for you, baby! I will always come back!”

She glanced across the room and found Draven yelling. She waved bye to him and felt a as if she were floating. She looked the other way, outside where the lights became brighter.

“Baby, I’ll find you! I’ll always find you!”

“He won’t be finding you for a long while, darlin’,” came the voice next to her head. “My name is Darryl. This here is James.”

She looked to where the voice came from. “Darryl,” she whispered then attempted a smile. He sounded as if he was from another part of the states, not from Colorado. She looked to the other EMT, James. He had a bald head and laugh lines around his eyes. They were bright blue. Was there someone next to James?

Oh, my eyes are blurry, she thought. Hell, I can’t see straight, but damn I feel good right now.

James smiled. “Hold on, Andria. Keep looking at me. Please, don’t close your eyes and don’t fall asleep. You are safe with us, I promise. Nothing will happen while you’re in our care. But you must promise me not to fall asleep. Can you do that?”

Andria thought about nodding, but decided to smile instead. “Sure, I’ll try.” She thought her voice sounded muffled. She thought of when she would scream into her pillow after fights with Draven.

James smiled. “Good girl. Now, let’s get you to the hospital and cleaned up. You’ll require a few stitches and possibly surgery on your arm.”

As if ‘your arm’ were magic words, the evening came back to Andria like a flash of lightning.

Draven came over drunk, unwelcomed. He burst through her door and her sister, Suzy, grabbed the phone to dial 911. He punched Andria when she tried to stop him and she landed on her back. He grabbed for Suzy and yanked the phone from her, throwing it across the room. She managed to successfully dial 911, though, since the police showed up.

Suzy screamed, then there was silence.

Andria closed her eyes and a tear slipped into her hair.

“I need you to open your eyes, Andria. You have a nasty head wound,” said one of the paramedics. James, maybe?

“What did you do?” she whispered.

“I’m going to apply more pressure to your chest, Andria. We’re on our way to the hospital now. Your sister will be there as well.”

Andria stared at the top of the ambulance, the white roof offering nothing of substance. The memories of earlier continued.

Draven made his way toward her. “Come on, you’re coming with me.”

“No! Let me go! I hate you and will never be with you again!”

“You fucking bitch!” He grabbed her by the hair when she tried to run and yanked her back. He punched her in the face once, twice, then dropped her.

Andria looked through swollen lids and saw Draven standing over her, blood on his fists dripping to the floor. Behind him, her father approached with a baseball bat.

“Leave, you son of a bitch, and never come back!”

Andria’s eyes widened when Draven pulled a gun from his pants. She turned to her father to scream when everything changed.

A gunshot. All it took was a gunshot. Her father fell backwards, bleeding out from the chest. He did not move, breathe, nothing. Draven stared down at Andria. He bent down and pressed his palms to his knees. “If I can’t have you, no one can.” He grinned, malice-laced. He drew his leg up and brought it down, hard, on her head.

“No!” she screamed and came back to the present.

“Andria, it’s James. You’re safe, you’re safe. I promise, you’re safe.”

“No, my father! He killed my father! Oh my God, he killed my father!”

Another pinch in her arm made her hiss. She screamed once more. “I need to check on my father.” She knew her father was dead, but her last piece of hope held out for the smallest of pulse in his body. Maybe he still had life left in him. She needed to escape. She felt like a captive tied to a gurney.

“I’ve given you morphine and it should be working here very shortly,” James told her.

“What?” she asked and her eyes drooped closed.

“Please, Andria, try to stay awake. I know it will be hard, but trust me. You’ve been hurt in a very bad way. You do not need to feel anything until…” Darryl drawled out to a pause. “Well, let’s just say you have been through more tonight than anyone could or should in a lifetime. Please, trust us to take care of you.”

Both men leaned over her, two men she did not know, while the ambulance moved with the rhythm of the road. Both wore white and both had badges, or maybe name plates. She blinked slowly and thought another person was in the back. She focused her eyes and her vision began to darken.

Andria left behind her home and a part of her died there with her father. When she recovered, and she would recover, she would need to leave town—hell, leave the state—and move as far away from Colorado as possible.