Maria
My mouth feels like shit.
It’s dry and scratchy, and I need water or something to drink. But I can’t talk just yet.
I’m stuck somewhere between sleep and wake.
Flashes flit through my troubled mind.
Moments of consciousness followed by moments of cold, empty, dark.
“Easy mija, Mami is here,” my mother’s voice dances inside my ears.
“Everything looks good on her chart. We just have to wait. It’s up to Mia—” I think that must be the doctor, but I don’t remember.
It doesn’t matter because he is being interrupted.
“Her name is Maria,” a familiar voice says, correcting the stranger, and I feel like I could cry and laugh at the same time.
Luc.
He’s not hurt or worse. Matteo didn’t get him.
Thank God.
I love you, Luc.
Fade to black.
I don’t want to be in the dark anymore.
I don’t want to be alone.
Luc.
I want him to come back.
I hate the hospital. It smells bad, and everyone is always poking and prodding me. I just want to leave.