April

I’m floating on a cloud, where there’s peace and beauty all around me. I’m dressed in the best silk, which wraps around my body like a blanket. Never have I seen anything as vivid and pure as the blues and whites that surround me, and even though I have no idea where I am, I feel as if I’m right where I need to be. The bright lights all around should bother my eyes, but they don’t. Everything’s heavy, as if I’m sewn into the cloud and can’t move. But it’s not uncomfortable. It’s soft and warm where I am right now.

“April…”

I hear the voice from somewhere far away. Too far to grasp.

“April…”

The voice is getting louder, and I want it to stop. I want quiet. I want to relish the quiet solitude and the peace all around me.

“Can she hear me?” the voice asks, and the sound is making the light around me dim. Then I hear a beeping noise and I’m able to extract my hand and then my arm from the cloud, but…pain. Pain like I’ve never felt before radiates up my arm and shoulder, then down my spine as the beep gets louder and the blues and whites darken. My cave of warmth and sweetness is crumbling around me.

“What are you doing?” the voice repeats as a warmth starts to spread deep inside my veins.

“She’s not ready yet.” Another voice.

“We need to keep her comatose for a…” And then the happy cloud returns and I don’t hear the voices again.

Beep…beep…

“It’s been a week. I’ll have to go in a few days.”

Beep…beep…

“She’s being cared for. Don’t worry.”

Beep…Beep…

“She’ll be all alone.”

“Is there anyone else who can…”

More warmth. More darkness.

“April…Open your eyes, April.”

It’s an unfamiliar voice and it’s harsh, clashing severely with my serene environment.

I start to move, hopping from one white fluffy cloud to another trying to avoid the sound. Where’s the voice? The blues and whites are becoming murky. I look up and then down. Is it going to rain?

“April.”

The voice is even louder this time, and I startle, losing my footing on the next cloud as I fall and fall…

The world isn’t soft and blue anymore. It’s black, the lights and colors gone.

“Calm down, you’re at Mount Sinai Medical Center. I’m Dr. Parker. Don’t try to talk yet,” he says softly.

Beeps sound all around me like a symphony, the recognizable sound of a ventilator serves as the backdrop, and it smells like antiseptic and bleach. “You suffered a concussion…”

Beep…beep…

“Broken arm…”

Beep…beep…

“Skull fracture…”

Everything hurts, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. I can feel every single nerve ending in my body at once, and the sudden realization of where I am startles me into a panic. I jump in surprise. Or at least I think I jump, but I’m practically glued to the bed by all the contraptions sticking out of my body.

“Don’t try to move.” It’s the doctor’s voice.

Who am I? I can’t remember how I got here.

“Look at those pretty blue eyes.” Another voice—a soft female one. “It’s okay, April. Look, your friend Dean is here. I’m Gladys, your nurse.”

“Hi, honey.”

I turn my head toward the new voice. At first I only see spots, then I see an unfamiliar man’s distorted face. I close my eyes again.

“I got a call and flew right down. April?”

My arms feel heavy. With all the wires it’s hard to move but I manage to bring them up to my eyes. “Who are you?” I croak, my throat hurting from the effort.

“It’s me, Dean. Your friend.”

The beeping sound is coming faster now, and I feel my heart pounding. “Dean.” I try out the word, but it’s completely unfamiliar.

“She’s been through a very traumatic experience and we just discontinued most of her painkillers. It’s been two weeks. Give her a moment,” Gladys says.

“Do you remember anything, Ms. White?” Dr. Parker asks.

“Ms. White?” I rasp out.

“Do you remember your name?” The doctor peers at me. I close my eyes and try hard to think but nothing comes to mind.

“What’s going on?” Dean asks.

“Do you know what month it is, April? Can you count to ten?”

I count to ten but can’t remember the month. Hell, I can’t even remember the year.

“Sometimes it takes a little while,” Dr. Parker assures me. “Are you in any pain right now?”

“My head.”

“I’m going to give her some pain meds, but nothing to sedate her unless she’s in too much pain.” I feel, rather than see, him hovering close. “April. April? On a scale of one to ten, can you tell me how much pain you’re in?”

I try to speak but nothing comes out. Somehow I manage to open both hands. “Ten?” the nurse asks, and I barely nod.

“April, do you remember what happened?”

Do I remember? I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t understand what’s happening.

I’m panicking now. “I—” I start to croak out, but my mouth is dry and I can’t put thoughts and words together.

“Take deep breaths,” Gladys advises. “Your throat may hurt. You’ve had a tube to help you breathe for over two weeks.”

A tube? “April, we’re going to run some tests,” the doctor says, writing something into a chart. “And the nurse here is going to push some medicine into your IV to help with the pain, okay? You may feel a little dizzy.”

I nod because I don’t know what else to do.

“I’m at a hospital,” I manage to say.

“Good. Yes, you’re at Mount Sinai. I’m Dr. Parker.”

“Why am I here?” I close my eyes tight and think. I was on a white fluffy cloud. I liked being on that cloud.

“And this is Dean Scott. Remember Dean?”

I turn my head slightly; my eyes have adjusted and the face isn’t distorted anymore. Brown skin, strong cheekbones, a baseball cap worn backward, thick lips, a kind smile, chocolate-colored eyes. I whisper, “Dean.”

“Yes, honey. It’s me.”

“Who are you?” I ask, never having seen this man in my life.