It was dream-like. Lyam simply lied there at times staring at the wooden ceiling planks when he was strong enough to make his eye lids stay open for short periods at time. He heard people talking and the words morphed into his sleep making him feel woozy and.. Dislocated in a way. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on but what was more or less clear to him it wasn’t good. Better than it could have been. Or maybe not?
“He should be dead”, Lyam heard someone whisper and moved his right arm a bit, which made the person flinch, “Did he hear that?” Yes, he did, even though he wasn’t able to say anything and were to forget about it before waking next time from a nightmare.
Sense of time mashed and disappeared to somewhere inside those walls on that day. He didn’t know how long he slept, and how long he was awake. All the voices in the room sounded alike. It felt like years passed, even though it may have been just a day. An hour, Half of it or just minutes. Sometimes Lyam tried his best to open his mouth, say something or move his limbs which made him freak out for a second as he wasn’t quite sure if he could ever do that again. Was he really dead? Some voices he didn’t recognize. They felt strange to him and he didn’t know what made them. One particularly. It echoed from the walls bringing more noise to the room.
Then he fell asleep again.
The next time he woke it was night. It had been a day since the fire. A day since the attack and a day since he lost another home. Or maybe even more. As he was slowly waking up he could see her. It had been some time but her face was clear in all the fog he was living in. He could still hear talking, words he didn’t understand but he knew to be different from the language he had heard from the attackers. It felt familiar and made him feel warm inside. The voices were like a choir, singing the message Lyam couldn’t understand.
He felt a shiver.
It ran down his spine, like something was wrong. It wasn’t a stranger passing through his body, he had felt it other times and it was never something good. It made him squirm in the sheets. He threw his arms around until he hit something. A glass of water fell by his bedside table breaking on the floor. The door opened and someone came in to clean it up. His mind cleared up relatively fast.
“Lyam!” he heard a scream he knew as someone ran inside the small room. She grabbed him and held him tightly, mumbling things he couldn’t make sense of. For a short while he just enjoyed the warm embrace and imaged Her. His eyes were closed and he, while it took a lot of effort, held her. And as it slowly occurred him that who was there wasn’t the one he first thought, he still kept his eyes shut and held on to the feeling. The warmth, the memory. Even though he couldn’t hold on forever, he sure as hell would try.
The moment passed, the picture shattered and Lyam was wide awake. Open for the real world to enter his mind. He opened his eyes and let go of Denisa. Tears had filled up her eyes and looked closely there was something glimmering in the corner of Lyam’s eye. Verrill was standing right behind her looking over her shoulder at Lyam. Vaguely Lyam smiled at both of them, still feeling sharp pain running up and down his arm. His ribs were sore as he had fell off of a horse and his head was pounding worse than after a night of drinking. The pain eased a bit after Denisa let go of him.
“So this is how far you’d go to get yourself killed”, Verrill said sounding as calm as he usually did, “Don’t go any further.” His voice turned into more serious towards the end of what he got to say. It was more of a warning than anything else.
“Are you gonna be alright?” Denisa asked worried. She was squeezing on Lyam’s hand as she sat on his bedside. He thought for a second about the whole situation, but tried to sound as carefree as he could when he answered:
“Of course”, he forced a bit wider smile to appear on his face, “You wouldn’t get rid of me that easily.” Denisa teared up again and smiled from ear to ear. The door closed.
“Who was that?” Lyam asked, still confused about simply everything. The door opened again and a woman walked in. She worked her way pass Verrill and Denisa.
“Oh, that. No one”, Verrill answered his question before Denisa could open her mouth. The woman who had entered the room started to open up the bandage on Lyam’s arm.
“So you’re finally awake”, she said, “Your bandages need to be changed and the wound cleaned. The infection seems to be passing, you are a lucky man, mister.” She sounded more scolding than happy to see him awake.
“Infection?” Denisa gasped and looked at her brother.
“Well that happens when you get a wound and won’t treat it”, the woman blaming Lyam. He didn’t care, he was alive and breathing. And so was Denisa and Verrill at least. There was still hope that everything would be alright.
Continue reading “Untitled story, part 15”