“Yes, I’ll stay with him!” The woman with the dark cloud for a face kept talking, interrupting the voice that shone light in my eyes.
I’m planning to eat whatever you make.
That girl—the voice with the light—she had green eyes. Likejade.
And I loved her.
I slipped my hand out of my father’s grasp then. He was dead, and you should never follow the dead—they’ll take you with them.
And I had to go see the green-eyed girl. The one who had a sharp tongue and a warm heart. She liked lavender honey. She liked to swim. She liked…
Beep, beep, beep.
I floated somewhere, outside of time and space. There was no pain, no joy, no feeling.
Just an existence in the void.
“He’s in what we call a medically induced coma. We’re closely monitoring his brain activity—”
“What does that mean?” the woman with the dark cloud face asked. “W-will he wake up?”
“We’re hoping,” a man responded. “He’s experienced severe trauma to his lungs. They’ve been punctured in multiple places, and—”
“Punctured? With what?”
“His broken ribs and repetitive blows to his chest. Do you know how this happened? Did you witness this?”
“No,” the woman spoke softly. “I didn’t. I found him after it happened.”
“Did you file a police report? Also, are you related? Do you know him?”
“Yes. Yes, I know him. I’ll be taking care of his medical bill. His name’s Alex.”
Alex. Sounded so familiar. The voices floated around me, clear and loud, but I didn’t know how to respond. I wanted to open my mouth, to blink, but I had no body.
Beep, beep, beep.
The sound continued while I was suspended in darkness that stretched forever. No light. Just heavy, deep, pressing darkness.
I feel like...when another man touches me next...he’ll just have to…I don't know...be very…delica—
Jade. Her name was Jade.
“Alex? Alex, can you hear me?”
It was the dark cloud woman again. I couldn't remember her name, but I knew her. I knew her from a long time ago. She still had a dark cloud—her face wouldn’t take shape in my mind.
Unlike Jade’s. Jade lived inside me. Her voice talked to me all the time. She would tell me things. Sometimes awful things. She was in pain. Someone hurt her. A man. Her father too.
My chest ached at her stories.
But Jade would also tell me she loved me. Her gentle hands—they held my cheeks. She would run her fingers through my hair, all of her smelling like coconut oil. Her eyes—her beautiful, pure eyes—they would look at me and she would smile. Her image was crystal clear.
Who was Jade? I wasn’t sure, but one thing was certain: I loved her.
“It’s strange talking to you like this,” the dark cloud woman said quietly. “But I talked to the doctor, and they said you’rebetter. They took you out of the coma a week ago, but you’re still not waking up, but you’re healing.”
Was I hurt?
