Blythe waved as she was taken back to a cubicle. Her father joined her a few minutes later, smelling of outdoors and cigarette smoke.
"Nice young man," he said, pointing over his shoulder toward the waiting room. "Seems genuinely concerned about you."
"Yes, he's very nice. If I ever get past all this, we're going out."
"You'll be fine, honey. It's just stress."
"I hope so, Dad. It all seems so real." Her voice drifted off and she dozed.
"Can you hear me?" A man's voice cut through the dark. "Is someone in there? Can you hear me?"
"Hello?" she called, her voice rasping in her throat. Only it wasn't her voice. A decidedly masculine voice formed the words she spoke. "I'm in here. It's dark."
"Buddy, hang on. Maybe I can get this door open. Holy Mother!" he gasped. "Um, on second thought, I'm gonna leave the door shut and wait for the EMTs. They should be here pretty soon. You hang in there, fella. We'll get you out."
"Thanks," Blythe said, sounding like a man again.
"What's your name, buddy?"
Blythe couldn't reply. It was as if the voice simply stopped working. She felt a tug on her head. Suddenly, she saw the scene from above. A car lay in the ditch beside a back country road. It had wrapped around a tree. One branch had penetrated the window, piercing the chest of a tall, black haired man. Another man pounded on the window, yelling.
"Hey, man! You with me? Hang in there, buddy!" the voice sounded distant, growing fainter.
Blythe started awake, "Buddy!"
Fortunately, no one was in the room with her. She could hear her father's voice outside. He talked in low tones to a woman. She couldn't hear their words, just the rise and fall of their voices. There was a light tapping on the door.
"Hi," the woman said. "I'm Dr. Waverly. I hear you've got yourself a migraine?" She pulled out a penlight, flashing it in Blythe's eyes.
Eyes watering, she endured the check up stoically. "I have a headache, but that's not the only reason I'm here."
"Your father said you've been having bad dreams?"
"I think I'm hallucinating. I mean, it's like dreams, but more real. I can see and smell things in the dreams."
"Tell me about the dreams," the doctor said. She sat on the rolling stool, waiting.
Blythe described what she'd seen, leaving nothing out.
"And you just experienced another one of these hallucinations while you've been waiting?"
"Yes. This time, I wasn't a woman. I was a man. I was in a car on a back country road. My car hit a tree, and I got stabbed by a branch that came through the window."
The doctor froze. "Describe the man."
"About six foot two, broad shoulders, black hair. He was dressed in a red flannel shirt."
Eyes wide, the doctor's hand flew unheeded to her mouth as her lips formed an O.
"What? Tell me."
"Did you know the man?"
"Never seen him before." But she had. It was the man from her accident site.
Dr. Waverly didn't explain why Blythe's description elicited such a response. Instead, she ordered an MRI immediately. Paul came back, taking Blythe to radiology. The same tech was on duty.
"You again? Did you miss me?"
"Terribly," Blythe laughed. "I just can't seem to get enough of this place."
"It's the antiseptic," Sandy, the tech said. "It's irresistible."
She joked as she got Blythe ready for her MRI. She gave her a designer hospital gown. Another tech came in to start an IV for contrast. That accomplished, Blythe went with them to the MRI room. It was a big, metal tube. The room was large and airy, well lit and welcoming. Once she was settled, they went to their booth.
"It's going to be loud," Sandy warned. "But try to lie as still as you can. Some people even fall asleep in there."
Blythe forced a chuckle, but falling asleep was the last thing she wanted. What if she woke up screaming? Unfortunately, lying still in the relative silence, aside from the clunks and thumps of the machine, she drifted off.
She hovered over the accident, watching as the emergency team cut the tree branch and pulled the man from the wreckage.
"Is he breathing? Can you get a pulse?"
Everything happened so fast, she couldn't follow it. The EMTs did their jobs well. With a gurgling gasp, the man spasmed on the gurney. Blythe felt herself falling. Instead of landing with a bone breaking thud, she felt as if she had landed on a cloud. The world went dark soon after.
"I can't see," her man's voice said. "I can't see!"
"It's okay, buddy," the familiar voice said. "You've got some blood in your eyes. We're going to get you to the hospital. It's okay."
"I can't see!" Blythe persisted. "What's going on? What's happening to me?"
©2022 Dellani Oakes
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