What am I then?
I look down at my fully-clad body, wondering just where these clothes and shoes came from. Have I always worn them? And my hair, it’s just hanging there, draping down my back, falling over my shoulder. And it’s so very black, just like Arlo said. My skin, so creamy, so very human like. I poke myself in the arm. It’s beyond strange. I can actually feel myself, poke myself in the arm. This is so unbelievably surreal, but so absolutely wonderful all at the same time, that it renders me speechless. There are no words to convey just how crazy this is. And I have never been more confused than I am right now.
I have so many questions spooling around my mind. Like for starters, how did this happen? How did I come to look like a human? I remember the odd sensation I felt go through me the instant before I saved James, and how I just did that on instinct. Okay, so the change obviously occurred then, but how? Did I somehow make this happen? I wonder if it’s because I started having feelings like a human does. If so, can I take it back, can I change back? But then, do I want to? I glance over at James, my eyes lingering on his beautiful face, my feelings for him surging through me with such an overwhelming intensity that I grip hold of the chair.
I look down at my body, my new body that James will be able to see.
So I ask myself the question again. Do I want to change back?
No, I really and truly do not.
James’ breathing deepens, pricking my attention. I stand from my seat and peer over at him. He looks like he’s still sleeping and the monitors he’s attached to seem to be functioning as they should. I quietly lower myself back into the chair.
I’m not supposed to be in here. I snuck in after everyone had left. I didn’t want James to be alone. I’ll always be here for him, no matter what form I take, or whether he knows it or not.
When I arrived at the hospital, the doctors and nurses were already tending to James. The nurse had asked if I was a relative, but when I said no, he said I couldn’t be here. When I explained I was the one who had saved James, he was more forthcoming. He told me to sit in the waiting room until they were done with James and he would come back and let me know how James was doing, but after that I would most certainly have to leave.
I was waiting quite a while, all the time spent worrying about James. I could think of nothing else. But the nurse was as good as his word. He came back and told me James was going to be fine. He’s got a broken leg - well it’s broken in two places, his tibia and his kneecap - so they have potted it, and it will take up to three months to heal. He’s suffering from the effects of mild smoke inhalation, and the cut on his head needed stitches. The nurse said James had been incredibly lucky. He’s seen people come off a lot worse than that after a car collision with a tree - so have I, but I was reluctant to mention that. He went on to say that James owes me his life because if I hadn’t have been there to pull him from that burning car, he would most certainly have died.
If only he knew.
I’m beyond relieved that I saved James. I wouldn’t have been able to bear it if I’d lost him. Not that I’ve ever truly had him, or ever will. But to lose the joy of being able to see him every day would have been too much to bear. I know just how incredibly selfish of me that was, but I couldn’t help it. At the time I didn’t even think about my actions, or the consequences of them.
By saving James’ life, I have changed the natural order of things. I have committed a cardinal sin and obviously have no regard for the consequences, as here I sit. There’s no saving me now. I have crossed the line and strayed so far over it I know there’s no return for me.
But I don’t regret it. And I never will.
Because this is James and he makes nothing else matter. Everything else is inconsequential. He is, and will always be, the only thing that matters to me, and my only regret is that I hadn’t been there sooner to save him from suffering these injuries.
I know, fully and completely, that I did the right thing, but I suppose the ultimate question is – right for whom?
Then I hear James’ bed sheets rustle and see that he’s waking up. I sit up in my seat, my back poker-straight. If I had a heart right now, I imagine it’d be beating out of my chest. James is going to see me. When he opens his eyes, he is actually going to see me for the very first time. A wave of nerves washes over me.
He groans a low moan as the pain from his injuries sets into his consciousness. He tries to get up.
“Don’t get up,” I say, moving swiftly toward him. “Just lay back and I’ll call the nurse.” I press the buzzer beside his bed and back away.
He slumps back, unable to do anything else. “Some water,” he whispers, his hand rubbing his throat. His voice sounds raspy, from the smoke inhalation I guess.
I get the jug of water off the table and pour some into the waiting glass, and hand it to him. He struggles to drink, spilling some, so I help guide the glass to his lips. He sips slowly, his eyes blinking heavily. And I step back, leaning up against the wall, allowing myself to recover from the heightened sensation I feel every single time I touch him.
I cannot even begin to describe just how remarkable this moment truly is. I’m actually here with him.
He holds the glass on his chest, lies back onto the pillows, and turns his head, glancing at me in the dim light. He’s looking right at me with his dark, impenetrable eyes, eyes that I never once dreamed would ever see me, eyes in which I’m waiting to see if there is any spark of recognition.
“Where am I? Who are you?”
Sweet relief. He doesn’t know me.
“You’re in the hospital. I’m –”
Confusion holds his face as he utters, “The hospital?” He reaches up and touches where the gauze sits on his forehead covering his cut.
“You have a cut there, it needed stitches.” I glance down at his leg. His eyes follow mine. “And you’ve broken your lower leg and fractured your kneecap, so they’ve put a pot on it to help it heal.” I look back up to his confused face. “And your throat hurts because of the smoke inhalation, I believe.”
He brings his foggy eyes back to meet mine. “What happened?” He sounds more like he’s addressing himself than me. “I mean, I was driving home from Joe’s wedding and then nothing –” His eyes flicker. “Are you a doctor?”
I reach over and take the glass from him, placing it back on the table. “No, I’m not a doctor. I – well, you had an accident. You crashed your car. And I – I helped.”
“That’s pretty modest.” I look up to see the nurse from earlier coming through the door. He leans over the bed and switches off the button that I’d pressed. “She more than helped. She saved your life. Pulled you from a burning car.” He nods in my direction, smiling, giving a knowing look to James. “So how are you feeling?” he asks James, but James doesn’t respond. He’s just staring at me, wide eyes fixed on me. “You saved my life?” The surprise audible in his raspy voice.
“I –” I look down, away from his heavy stare. “– I – well –” My mouth's not functioning as it should. My lips feel heavy and clumsy. “Yes. I saved you,” I finally manage. I glance up at him, his eyes take hold of mine and that’s it, I can’t look away.
“I – I don’t know what to say.” His voice suddenly low, warm, caressing, our eyes still locked together. “I mean, what can I say?”
“Thank you is usually a good place to start,” the nurse says with a laugh, and just like that the moment's broken. I look away.
“Right, you need to go,” the nurse says, finger pointing at me. My eyes flick up.
“Go?” James and I both echo.
“Yes, go. You’re not supposed to be in here, as you well know.” He gives me a pointed look. “And he needs his rest.”
Go, I can’t go. I’ve barely spoken to James. I can’t leave now. I need more time with him.
“But she can’t go,” James says urgently, his words practically repeating my thoughts, except mine sound more panicked and slightly unstable. I glance at him. His eyes are on me again and I feel a warm glow erupt deep inside me, lighting the whole of me. “I need to talk to you – about the accident, about what happened. About everything.”
I open my mouth, but the nurse speaks before I have chance. “She can come back in the morning, at visiting time. It’s not that far off now anyway.” And I can tell by the firm look on his face he’s not going to play ball.
James looks at me, a hint of shyness in his face, something I’ve never seen him wear before. It’s captivating. “Will you come back in the morning?” he asks. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I really want to –”
“I’ll come in the morning.” I smile. He wants to see me again. I feel exhilarated, exuberant. It’s hard to contain my happiness. He actually wants to see me again.
I look at the nurse. “What time is visiting time?” I ask.
“Nine-thirty.”
I look back at James. “I’ll come at nine-thirty.”
James’ lips curve into a faint smile. “Thanks.”
The nurse signals to the door and I follow him.
“Will you be okay getting home? It’s so dark out,” James says, pulling me back, and I willingly return. The nurse is by the door, finger on the light switch, his impatience radiating through the room. But I don’t care. I’ll eek this out for as long as I can.
“I’ll be fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
James' sleepy eyes gaze at me. “So, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Yes.” I smile. “You’ll see me in the morning.”
The nurse flicks the light off and closes the door behind us.
“I don’t want to see you back here till visiting time,” he says firmly, but with a warm smile on his lips.
“You won’t see me until nine thirty.” I return his smile, then turn to leave.
“That’s quite a bond you guys have now,” he says.
I turn back to him. “What do you mean?”
He glances up from looking at the papers in his hand. “Well when people share a life threatening incident, it ties them together in a way no one else can understand. I mean, how could you ever forget the person who saved your life, or the one whose life you saved?”
Utter happiness is filling me and I continue on down the hall, floating on an air of complete euphoria. I press the exit button and wait until the nurse buzzes me out. Now I’m stood in the lift lobby, unsure what to do.
The lift doors ping open and a man pushes out a wheelchair with a young woman in it. They both smile at me. I move out of the way, heading toward the staircase. A thought suddenly flashes through my mind as I take the steps down. There are lots of humans here, mostly ill or injured, but some also maybe dying. And a dying human brings only one thing. One of my kind. Oh no, what if one of them sees me here?
Panic shocks me into reality. I can’t be wandering about like this.
