Page 110 of Light My Fire Three Times
The weight of the world is sitting on my chest. I can’t remember how I got here, or why. The last thing I remember is being in the apartment… no, wait, I was at the truck.
Then I was packing up, and then… my head started to swim. Everything before this is blurry, and I can’t seem to piece it together.
What happened?
I attempt to clear my throat, but it’s a dry rasp. I force myself to focus on the room around me.
White walls, a plain, cheap-looking chair beside the bed, an IV stand hooked up to a bag of something clear that I don’t want to think about.
The beeping of a heart monitor fills the silence, and I try to make sense of it, but it only makes my head spin more.
And then, a figure appears in the doorway. It's a blur at first, but it sharpens quickly into someone I recognize.
Karl.
“Karl?”
The word comes out quiet as a whisper, more of a plea than a question. I don’t know what I’m asking for, but there’s something in his presence that makes me feel okay.
His eyes lock onto mine, and I see the immediate concern flash across his face. But then, he’s moving toward me, his large frame filling the space as he pulls a chair next to the bed.
“Olivia,” he breathes out, like it’s the first word he’s said in a long time.
He reaches for my hand but stops, hesitating as if he’s unsure I’ll want him to touch me. “How are you feeling?”
The question doesn’t register at first. I blink at him, trying to pull myself together. “Where am I?”
“Hospital,” Karl says softly. “You passed out. I… I didn’t know what was going on, Liv. You were so pale, and you wouldn’t wake up. I thought…” He cuts himself off, swallowing hard. “I thought something was seriously wrong.”
I try to focus on his words, but they’re slipping around the edges of my mind like water. Hospital. Passed out. Seriously wrong.
“Did I… did I…?”
“Yeah,” he answers quickly, leaning in just a little. “You collapsed. I had to take you here. You’ve been out for a while.”
I try to sit up again, but my body protests. It's like trying to move through quicksand. Heavy, slow, impossible.
My head is throbbing, and I can feel a pulse behind my eyes. A constant, rhythmic reminder that something is off. The sterile smell of the room fills my nose again, sharp and unsettling.
Everything feels… wrong.
Karl’s hand is still on mine, warm, solid, but I don’t know what to say to him. The worry in his eyes is too much, and I’m not sure how to make it go away.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” I manage, barely a whisper.
“It’s okay, I’m just glad I could be there for you.”
I open my mouth to say something back, but then the door opens, and a woman in a white coat steps inside, her face a little too cheerful for the circumstances.
I can tell immediately that she’s the doctor, though she has that detached calmness about her that makes everything feel clinical. She’s accustomed to seeing people at their worst and not letting it affect her.
“Ah, good, you're awake,” she says, checking the clipboard she’s holding. “How are we feeling now, Olivia?”
I open my mouth to speak, but the words don’t come. I’m not sure how I feel about it. I don’t even know how to explain this feeling of being here. My chest tightens, and I must force myself to breathe.
“I…” I stop, swallowing hard. “I don’t know.”
The doctor looks at Karl, who still has a hand on my arm, holding me down, trying to keep me tethered to this moment, to reality.
