When I first became aware of anything, I knew I was in the hospital. I knew it long before I even opened my eyes. I also knew that something was very wrong with me. Just a feeling, I guess—but hey, if I were in the hospital, that would only make sense, right?
Suddenly, a horrible sense of unease came over me that seemed unrelated to the situation at hand. I sensed a presence nearby that just wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t a friendly presence. I felt vulnerable and not at all safe.
I forced my drowsy eyelids open to see what danger might be lurking close by. It was tough at first. I had obviously been unconscious, though I had no idea for how long. How could the simple act of opening one’s eyes—a movement we all take for granted and that’s second nature—become so damn hard?
I finally opened them enough to see the ominous yet lovely figure hovering over the bed in which I lay. I knew right away who it was.
Melissa.
I was surprised. She was the last person I expected to find at my bedside. Yet there she was, leaning on the guardrail, gazing down at me.
I didn’t have to be fully alert to recognize the anger—and perhaps a bit of hatred as well—in her expression. But there was also a hint of compassion and concern in the brown eyes that stared down at me in such critical judgment. As attractive as she was, the softness in her expression did nothing to take the edge out of the hardness. Oh no, there was a lot more of that than anything else.
“I was hoping mine would be the first face you’d see when you woke up, Katie,” Melissa said in that familiar deep and husky voice I once found so soothing. But she didn’t speak in a manner meant to comfort me. Instead, she spoke in a way that made me uncomfortable. I had no idea at the time why she was there. I only knew it was with ill intentions.
I moved my lips to speak, but little more than a raspy moan escaped.
Unable to talk, I tried to move instead, but I found that the only parts of my body I could control were the muscles in my face.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Oh God, please don’t tell me I was paralyzed!
But I had feeling from head to toe. So then why couldn’t I move?
Melissa watched me struggle. Her expression shifted from sympathetic to genuinely amused. A sickening sensation hit the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t sure which made me sicker: the fact that I was unable to move, or the fact that Melissa was getting serious enjoyment out of seeing me struggle.
I was exhausted in no time from straining my useless muscles. I stared helplessly up at Melissa, wondering how someone with such compassion could have such a cold side. A side I hadn’t seen until the end.
It’s been said that anybody can fool anybody, yet I couldn’t help asking myself over and over how the hell I missed Melissa’s dark side. Why hadn’t I seen it? Why had I only seen the intelligent, compassionate side?
Because that was all I wanted to see? Or because that was all she allowed me to see?
ns216.73.216.121da2
and then Add to home screen.