The emergency vehicles arrived in a flash of lights and loud sirens. Men pounded up in full gear, examining the car, assessing the situation.
"Get these people out of here. We need to be careful here, there's a leak in the gas tank. Don't worry, miss. We'll get you out of there."
He was tall, with black hair and a big nose. Where had she seen him before? Why did he look so familiar?
"What's your name, honey?"
"Brenda."
"Brenda, I'm Malachi. I'm going to help you. You just hold tight, okay, baby?"
"I'm not going anywhere."
He grinned, his dark brown eyes crinkling at the corners. His lips twitched upward. His nose was too large for his face, but he had a strong jaw, a cleft in his chin, dimples and white teeth. It was the friendliest face she'd ever seen.
The rest was a blur. She had no idea how they freed her from the wreckage, but much later on, they had her out of the car and on a gurney. She was strapped to a backboard with a stiff collar around her neck. Malachi was nowhere to be seen. Moments later, he trotted to her side.
"Want to go for a ride with me?"
"Sure." Her eyes drooped shut. "Thank you."
She felt his hand on her shoulder. "You bet, Brenda. I'm gonna take good care of you."
Tears oozed out from under her closed lids. "Malachi. What's that mean?"
"My messenger," he replied quietly.
Her body convulsed. She could feel herself trembling, muscles fighting the restraints.
"Hang in there, Brenda. Just a little while until we're at the hospital. Don't make a liar of me, Brenda. Brenda!"
She heard the desperation in his voice as he did what he could to help her. His voice grew faint. The last thing she heard was, "Move this tub!"
Blythe woke with a gasp, her lungs feeling tight and constricted. She gulped air desperately, willing them to expand and contract. She sat up, forgetting about the leads. Feeling them in a tangle around her, she nearly pulled them off.
There was a tap at the door and her mother opened it. "You're awake. Are you okay? The technician is here to take things off."
"Okay. Just—I need to pee."
The young woman helped disconnect her from the box. Blythe used the bathroom and went to the sink to wash her hands. She hardly recognized the face that stared at her from the mirror. She had dark circles around her eyes, her cheeks were gaunt. What's happening to me? She touched her face, horrified by her appearance.
Her mother hovered while Tina took the wires off. Blythe sat quietly, but Charlotte asked a lot of questions that the technician couldn't, or wouldn't, answer. All she said was that the doctor would call with the test results.
"They may ask you to come in," she said, sounding a bit flustered. "We've never—I've not—" She snapped her lips shut. Tina forced a smile. "I'm so sorry. I really hope we can solve this for you soon."
"Thank you. I hope so. too."
"The doctor will call later today."
"I thought you said it would be several days," Charlotte interjected.
"I think they'll want to go over the results sooner than that." Impulsively, she hugged Blythe. "Take care."
Charlotte stayed quiet as she fixed Blythe breakfast. Finally, she sat down, opposite her daughter, at the table in the breakfast nook. Blythe nodded her thanks, saying a quick blessing before eating. Usually talkative, she sat in total silence, chewing slowly as she gazed out the window.
"What's on your mind, honey?"
Blythe told her about her dream. Her mother waited patiently for her to finish, a worried frown on her face.
"How horrible. Were you in pain? Did you suffer?"
"No. But I was so afraid. If it hadn't been for Malachi, I don't think I—Brenda—would have made it. He was so kind, so strong."
Charlotte blinked hard, turning her face away. "Do you remember the nightmares you had as a child?"
Blythe shook her head. "Not really. I can remember being afraid to go to bed. We went to a doctor, who hypnotized me or something. The bad dreams went away."
Her mother nodded, clasping her hands, laying them on the table, as she hunched forward in her chair. "You had night terrors that were so real, you sometimes couldn't remember where you were, when you woke. We tried everything—therapy, medication, hypnosis. We even took you to a psychic. She was actually the most helpful."
"A psychic? For real, Mom?"
"Not the right word. She called herself a spiritist. She did practiced reiki, reflexology and acupuncture, among other things. She was the one who helped the most. She did several treatments. She said that your problem was that you were an old spirit, who had become lost. You tried to find your lost soul, by visiting the souls of those who were dying. She found you a spirit guide who was supposed to help you through life."
©2022 Dellani Oakes
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