The character’s true power comes to light just when it is needed most. In her time to shine she saves the life of her best friend, despite the otherwise successful attempt at suicide. A story of pain, loss, love, self discovery and the true magick of metaphysics.
A slow but steady sound begins to echo at last against the stark white walls and large glass door of the somewhat small room. This is shortly followed by a startled gasp. Beep…Beep…Beep. It is an odd sound. Beep…Beep…Beep. It is not a sound made by natural means, but rather by a manmade device, which suddenly has commanded the attention of everyone in the room. All eyes are turned toward it in rapt interest. Beep…Beep…Beep. I am slumped against Him now in exhaustion but I find the strength to lift my head and open my now dim eyes once more. Upon searching for the source of the gasp, my gaze falls upon the nurse with the pen. She is no longer staring at the clock. Her eyes dart between the girl on the table and the machine next to her that continues to give its repetitive series of beeps.
“Doctor…”, her eyes are wide and she simply stares, as whatever words she would have spoken trail off and become forgotten.
The girl on the table lies there in slumber now, her heart beating out a slow, soft, steady rhythm. My line of vision flicks over to the shadowy figures of those that had approached to lend a hand. With soft, relieved smiles and a sage-like nod from the both of them, they melt from my sight into the background. He and I each take turns caressing the sleeping girl’s cheek lovingly. Exchanging a meaningful glance with one another, we too step back from the table. We quietly fade from the room, hand in hand, so that we may once more find our physical bodies where they lay miles away, in a state of deep meditation.
My eyes flutter open and my thumb absentmindedly runs back and forth over the face of the cell phone in my hand. Shortly I will receive a call bearing news. They will tell me that she is in critical but stable condition. I lay there in the darkened room, alone with my thoughts.
I wonder to myself, will she hate me? Will she even remember? Or will she awake, as anyone else would, with no knowledge of what came to pass in that hospital room while she tried to slip away. An exhausted smile touches my lips and silent tears of relief trail from my eyes as I think to myself that could perhaps ask her tomorrow. I roll from my back to my side and curl up, still deep in thought. I had always suspected that there was real power beneath the surface of what meets the eyes of most when they look upon He or I. Pity that confirmation of such things must come in such frightening packages.
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