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I pull my handbag up onto my shoulder and start walking down the road back home. All the shops are shut down for the night as it’s 8 p.m. now. People will be at home with their families, eating dinner or preparing the children for bed. It’s probably better than what I have waiting for me at home. The streetlights start to flicker and suddenly come to life. It’s getting dark quite quickly. The wind is also beginning to pick up. A storm is brewing in the sky again. I love storms. They are relaxing when I’m not caught in them outside.
I turn the corner to our street and see the house in the distance. I’ll go in, walk straight upstairs, and get into bed. I can read my book or scroll social media on my phone—anything to avoid the conflict from downstairs.
I pick up my pace and approach the gate at the bottom of the path. I lift the latch, push the gate open, and walk through. I let the gate swing shut before continuing to the front door. I just have to make it upstairs. I take a deep breath, open the front door and walk in.
“So, you’re finally home then? Didn’t you get lost on your way? Pity, that.” Amy shouts from the living room.
“Yeah, I’m home. I’m just going to shower and go to bed. I’m pretty beat.” I yell back, walking up the stairs.
I don’t hear what she says as I approach my bedroom door, close it, and bolt it shut. Okay, that was easy. Too easy.. something is going on. I throw my bag onto the bed, remove my shoes, and go to the bathroom.
I tie my hair up in a tight bun as close to my head as possible and turn the water on in the shower. I don’t want to rewash my hair, as I did this morning, and it takes forever to dry. Tossing my clothes on the floor, I quickly step under the water’s hot stream.
Once I’m done with my shower and dried off, I quickly brush my teeth and step back into the room. I head to my bed and pick up the pyjamas that have been there since this morning. Oh, well, I may as well wear these, as they are still pretty clean. I quickly dry off, put on my pyjamas, throw my towel in the hamper, and get into bed.
I grab my book from the side table, open it to the last page, and begin reading. I’ll just read for a little while until I feel tired. After a few chapters, my eyes begin to droop. The last thing I remember before falling asleep is reading is, “You’re beautiful! Who cares what everyone else thinks?”
Alyx
“Alyx, I’m going to ask you again. Do you know what year it is?” Doctor Maddox asked me for the second time since I showed up at the hospital.
My eyes widened. “I already told you. It’s 1955, sir.” I say while clutching my wrist.
Doctor Maddox and the nurse exchange worrying looks. They both take a deep breath and look at me. What now? Can someone please just sort my wrist out? The fucking thing is driving me crazy!
“Alyx, It’s not 1955.” The nurse says, placing her hand on my calf.
I move my leg from her grasp, and she steps back. Don’t touch me. I pin her with my gaze. “What do you mean it’s not 1955?” I stand up and look around the room frantically. I need to get out of here!
“Calm down, Alyx. Sit back down, and I will tell you.” He stands next to me now, his hand on my shoulder.
I let out a huff and plop back on the bed. He gives me a wry smile. “Alyx, it’s 2015.”
My body goes rigid. 2015? How? How have sixty years passed? I hear The Demon laughing in the distance.
Panic sets in, and suddenly, it is harder to breathe. I take in short, quick breaths to try and calm my pounding heart. The Demon… he’s had me trapped inside my own head for 60 years…
Doctor Maddox presses a button on the wall, and a voice comes across the ceiling saying CODE BLUE…CODE BLUE.
What is that horrible noise? I watch as nurses frantically run around gathering supplies as Doctor Maddox grabs me by the shoulders and pins me to the bed. “What are you doing to me?” I whip my head to look at him.
“We still need to secure your wrist before you hurt yourself further. It is badly damaged, and it’s dangerously close to becoming infected.” He nods to the nurses standing at the end of the bed, and they inch towards me.
One has her hand behind her, and I can’t see what she holds. I can’t move my body. Images of my mother holding me under the water rise to the surface, and I start flailing my body around to try and get away. Oh no. This is exactly like my mother again! “Stop! Please stop!” I whine as another nurse comes to the other side of the bed.
Doctor Maddox loosens his grip on my shoulders a fraction. “Alyx, it’s okay. Don’t panic! They’re only there to hold you still so I can fix your wrist. Please, calm down and breathe.” He smiles.
I look at him, his kind eyes crinkling in the corners, his wrinkles cascading down his forehead and meeting in the middle to form a crease of worry. Okay, Alyx. We need to calm down and get this wrist fixed. We can’t go on with the pain. I take a deep breath and try to steady my nerves enough so they can help me.
“Okay,” I breathe. “I’m okay now,” I whisper, holding my wrist out to him.
The nurses hold me down to the bed as he takes my wrist in his hands and carefully turns it over to inspect the damage. I wince in pain as he pulls it closer to him to get a better look. Dried blood covers my arm. A large open wound shines at the top of my wrist where my bone is sticking out.
“Okay. I believe this is a clean break, even though it looks horrific. However, I must push this bone back in and stitch it up. I can put you in a cast, and you’ll have to wear it for six to eight weeks to make sure it heals properly,” he says while writing it down and handing the clipboard to the nurse.
Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad. At least I can finally be out of pain.
“Nurse, please go get the necessary equipment we need to sort this wrist out. I can do it right here,” he says to her.
