"WAKE UP!!". He awoke to smiles. He had escaped the nightmare that had consumed him for as far back as he could remember. He had been reborn. "He's awake" a voice penetrated the air with a hum of desperation as if the words had longed to be heard. He looked up at the people that surrounded him. Their faces slowly came into focus his eyes straining to complete their first endeavour as if they had never been used before. A warm sensation rushed through his body as his eyes darted from face to face each one beaming with familiarity. "Dad!!", "Malcolm", the faces spoke, their voices cracked with earnest. It was his family, the same that he had been chasing in his dreams, the ones who had always remained just out of reach until the end when he had managed to grab his son just before he had regained conciousness. "Malcolm can you hear me?" His wife's voice, oh how he had missed his wife's voice. He tried to speak but all that came out was a mixed jargin of letters that made no sense to the tuning of a normal ear, but instead bounced off the eardrum causing nothing but a sense of confusion. "Malcolm just listen, I want you to look at me", he gazed into the sea of green and lost himself, tears rolled from her point of view and landed heavely onto his forehead, he cherished each drop, he had been reborn resurected from the incubus that had held him prisoner, and now he was being anointed, blessed by the tears of his wife. "Malcolm, there was an accident", the sea of green turned grey, he became aware of the iritating feeling the constant droping of tears evoked. Slowly he felt himself slipping back his vision became tunneled and blured. "You've had a stroke", the words richoched around his head vilontley like a bullet inside a cave, dormant scenarios that rest in the mind with never a need for contemplation started to wake with the noise, his trail of thought was bombarded by a flurry of questions, what was his condition? Could he walk could he talk? Was he partially paralised? Would he need the aid of a crutch or a chair or instead be able to walk out of the ward? How long had he been in the ward? How did this happen? Why did this happen? Was he being punished? But for what he'd lead a fairly normal life, the odd regret but nothing that would keep the gates closed. "Mr.Harper", this was a new voice a voice that he had never heard before, he turned at the sound to face a woman who stood with authority, he traced the threads of the uniform she wore up to find a face that was painted with empathy. He looked at her young and beautiful features and was filled with reassurance by her smile. "Don't worry Mr.Harper, you're going to be alrite". His wife squeezed his hand and his son stared at him. He looked at his son who wore a sad smile a guise as if the smile was forced to protect him from knowing, what was his son thinking the smile was not as deceptive as he thought. They left the room and he could hear a faint murmur as the nurse spoke to his wife. "I'm sory but the left side of your husband's body is paralysed, and he's showing signs of fraser's disease which means he will have problems speaking, his heart beat is irregular, however at the moment he is stable". Flashbacks of the past burned brightley, as the days of playing with his son or making love to his wife slipped into the smoke appearing as nothing more than a pile of smouldering ashes. |