Anastasia

When I come to for a moment, I am flying through town. Someone must have found me. Who is it? I don't know. I tumble down into the swallowing darkness again. There is chaos. I remember flames, a fire.

Something is wrong, but I'm not sure what it is. Why can't I move? Where am I going?

"You deserve this," a snide voice speaks to me from somewhere. I don't fight her. I want to crash ever further down, to be wrapped up in the night and taken to the moon.

Am I flying again? Something shakes, and I feel my body react in a grunt. When I breathe in the fresh air, waves of pain crash over me. It is like nothing I have ever felt.

No, no, take me back into that quiet place. I don't want to be here. Peace washes over me again, and the world is gone from me. This is where I want to stay. Where that pain cannot reach me.

The next time that I breathe the scorching air, there are lights above me. The fur that had surrounded me earlier is no longer there. Where am I?

"Starting an IV!" Someone shouts. There are many voices.

"Vitals critical!"

"We have to open her airways."

"Stop," I try to ask them, but nothing comes out of my mouth.

A light is being shone in my eyes. It burns, but I can't tell anyone. I want to scream. Why does it all hurt so much? Where am I? What happened?

I can't ask any of these questions.

The moment of awakened agony passes as I tumble downwards again. I lovingly embrace the darkness, which seems to save me from the torture and relieves me from the pain. Here, it is peaceful, despite the occasional whispers from my personal demons.

I don't recognize them anymore. What their names are, where they've come from.

"He'll never love you, you know."

Who is he? Who do they keep talking about?

"You deserve to burn."

Am I burning? Is that what happened?

My body shocks me back to the light. I hate the light. It brings the pain with it. I want it to leave me alone.

"Oxygen, now!" I see a faint outline of someone bent over me.

Something is being pumped down my throat. It's terrible, the sheer, vast burning of it. I fight against it all, trying to get away again.

"Coding!" The voice is urgent, but fades away quickly. I can't hear them anymore. The figures blur and disappear from my sight.

I am floating. I feel lighter than a feather, somewhere in this ever-night. The demons are still whispering, but they are feint. I can stay here forever if I want to, I know that. I can let the darkness take me, away from everything that's happening in the light.

"Come with us," the voices are many, now, they overwhelm the demons, so far below me now that I barely recognize their existence.

"I want to," here, I can speak. My voice is not stopped by that terrible burning. My body feels free.

"It will end all of your pain," they become hands, made of a shimmering glimmer, reminding me of the Mother Moon. All reach down to me, and I to them. All I have to do is touch them, and I will be gone from here.

A rush of air, and I come back to the light.

"Do you have the lines in? Oxygen levels aren't stabilizing, she needs fluids."

"Come on, stay with us."

No, no, I don't want to feel this, hear this, be here. Everything is on fire, everything overwhelms me. I cannot see anymore, or smell, only hear, only feel. I don't want this.

"Come with us," they pull me back down, the hands now covering me as I dip back into that place of solace.

"I'll go with you," I answer when I can speak again. I float forward, towards them, to wherever they've come from.

"Ana!" The word is so sharp that it seems to shake me to my core. I turn away from the hands, despite everything in me wanting to follow them to bliss. "Listen to me!"

I recognize the voice. I push back against the floating, wanting to get to her.

"Where are you going? Come with us," the hands insist behind me.

"I will, I just need to talk to her," I strain. Suddenly, I fear what would happen if I leave her behind in this place. The peace is slowly becoming panic.

"Ana!" A figure, distant and dreamlike, far from me. I swim through the blackness in front of me to move forward. If I stay still, the hands will take me.

I want to be with them, but not yet, not yet.

Slowly, I go down to where she is. I land on something hard, but her figure floats in front of me. She is shimmering, brighter than the hands, closer to the moon.

"Mom?" I am surprised to see her. What is she doing in this place? Am I not alone?

"Ana, my baby." She floats closer, her arms around me. I cannot physically feel her skin, but I am flushed with the feeling of grace, of safety.

"You cannot stay here." Above me, the hands are becoming urgent. "If you stay here, the pain will come."

I do not look up at them. My mind has been captured by the beauty of this vision of my mother. She gives me more peace than anything could have before. She is the only one I remember, the only person I know.

"Listen to me, Ana," she says gently, an ethereal hand brushing my cheek. "Do not go with them."

She glances upward. She must see them too, but why is she telling me not to go? Surely she understands the bliss that they promise me.

"Why not?" I ask, more curious than afraid. She will leave me to make my decision, I can see that in her eyes. But I need her reasons. Why should I not choose the bliss?

"I know that the pain seems too much for you now," she replies, and a flash of the burning in the light comes to me. "But my Ana, dear, you have to listen to the people calling out to you. You have to hold on. Keep fighting to stay, and don't go with them."

"I don't want to stay." I feel stubborn. The beckoning of the hands is strong, and I don't want to feel that pain again.

"It is difficult now, yes." She hovers her hands over mine, keeping me from floating away. "But Ana, soon, you will have all the answers that you need. You will heal, and the pain will disappear. I want you to have a long and happy life. If you go with them, you cannot go back."

"Life?" I'm not sure what she means, but the connections form quickly enough. "Am I alive?"

"If you go with them, you will die, Ana," she points out, looking up once again before she captures my gaze urgently in hers. "It is your choice, but I want you to choose to live. I want you to fight this with everything you have. Don't leave it all behind. Not yet."

"It is difficult," I answer, but my decision has been made already.

"Not impossible." She begins to fade.

"Don't leave me."

"I cannot stay, but you must."

With that, my mother is gone. The hands continue to call me to them, and without her, the temptation to go with them is strong.

I don't allow myself to float upwards, and I don't look to them. "I am going to stay."

"She's stable!" A voice is yelling from somewhere. Am I awake again?

I can't open my eyes, but I can feel the burning sensation setting my body ablaze. Is this what it is to be alive?

"Get her to the ICU."

"Is she actually going to survive this?"

"Maybe."

I am moving. I can hear them, but I feel safe despite the agony. I will stay, and I will fight, if these strangers will fight with me.

For now, I must sleep.

I disappear from consciousness again. This time, I am not in that place of peace, but I stay with my choice. The hands do not come for me, and nor does my mother. At least it is quiet here, and I can rest.

Time passes, and I don't know how long I am there. When I come to again, I am submerged in water. I still cannot move myself, but the pain is being soothed somehow.

"Not sure how well she will heal, or if she'll ever recover fully." Someone is talking, somewhere to my right. I can't look at them or turn my head, but I am bothered by the concern in their words.

I want to assure them that I will. If the agony can never return to what it was, I will.

"The Alpha's asked if he can see her again." Another voice, this one more level.

"When she's returned to her room, they can come in one at a time."

"I can't believe we haven't lost her."

"You won't lose me," I think, but I'm already exhausted. I need to sleep again, so that time can pass me in an ethereal daze. My body needs it.

This time, I don't realize that I am sleeping. There are no dreams or voices, no knowledge at all. It is as if I simply disappear.

There is a light, now, above me somewhere. My eyes have opened to some degree, even if they feel heavy. Someone's in the room with me. I cannot turn to see them, but their presence brings me comfort.

"You're going to make it, Ana," I know him, but no name comes to me. "And nothing is ever going to happen to you again."

I want to smile at his promise, but my face is stony-still. I can feel something beyond the numbness, a hand over mine. It is gentle, even in its roughness.

"I'll be here until you wake up," he promises, his voice breaking at the peak of the sentence. "So, please, come back to me."

I am awake, but I can't tell him that. For now, he has to be content with waiting, just as I am. His request does spur me on, however. I will wake up, if only to tell him that I decided to stay. Does he know about the hands?

"I'm so sorry," he continues. I wonder what he's apologizing for. Does he know what happened? Perhaps. Maybe he's simply being sympathetic.

It takes so much of my energy to stay in this state. I need to sleep again. At least the pain has transcended into numbness, a dull and distant reminder of where I am.

When my consciousness pulls me back again, it's because I feel someone standing somewhere near my feet. Through the slits that I manage, I can see him.

It's not the same person, but equally familiar. His face is a blur, but the features that I can make out seem like I've seen them often before. Does he look like me? That is what it feels like. Who is this man?

"They say you're going to get better." Unlike the others, there is a smile hidden in his voice. It lifts my heart. "I know you'll be out of here in no time."

He takes a breath, moving further away from me. "You are just as beautiful as your mother."

Does he know her? He disappears, offering no further explanations.