The White Raven by Carrie D. Miller

Author:Carrie D. Miller [Miller, Carrie D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carrie D. Miller
Published: 2017-03-31T18:30:00+00:00

23

I hear faint voices, faraway whispers. A man’s deep voice sounds strange amidst the softness of the two women’s voices. I can’t make out what they are saying. Someone says my name and comes towards me. I can open my eyes only a little; everything is blurry and washed out. Then the blanket of darkness falls over me again.

My dreams, nightmares rather, are filled with my tumultuous past. I hear pained howls and angry shouting, see faces caught in silent screams, their skin peeling and melting. I smell the burning of flesh, my own, but I am cold and rigid. Someone is drowning—is that me? I see thin, bony hands come up out of churning water, desperately clawing at the hands that hold her down. The scent of fetid blood replaces that of burning flesh and I gag, I can’t breathe from the stench of it. Icy winds blow at my face and the cold cuts into my skin. More screams fill my ears; I can’t shut them out. The screech of a bird overtakes the screams, and I am chasing it. The white bird trails blood as she flies. It splatters my face.

I jolt awake, the taste of blood in my mouth. I have bitten my lip.

“Aven!” Jo rushes to me from the doorway. “Are you okay?”

Cal is behind her and Sylvia is peering around him. They share the same expression, that of unease and worry.

I cover my mouth and Jo hands me a tissue. Embarrassment keeps me from meeting Cal’s eyes.

“I called him. I couldn’t lift you.” Jo’s eyes plead for forgiveness.

“She won’t tell me what happened to you.” Cal steps forward. His hands are in his front pockets, and he is looking uncomfortable despite the concern on his face.

I find my voice. “How long have I been out? What time is it?” My throat is like sandpaper. I take several gulps of water from the glass on the nightstand.

“Practically all day. It’s almost midnight.” Jo takes the empty glass from my hand.

“Can I talk to Cal alone, please?”

Jo closes the door behind her, and Cal sits on the end of the bed. “Jesus, Aven. Are you all right?” He moves to take my hand but stops himself.

I shake my head in frustration. “You have had the worst introduction into my life, I have to say.” My attempt at levity fails, for he isn’t smiling. “I can’t imagine what you must be thinking.” I sigh and cover my face with my hands.

He sits quietly for a moment, then puts a hand on my leg and a gives it a gentle squeeze. I sit up, gazing at him with eyes that beg for understanding. He scoots forward and wraps his arms around me. This tender and loving gesture, the kindness in his eyes, opens a well I’ve kept capped for many years. My tears flood out in sobs and gasps, shudders and coughs, and he says nothing. He holds me gently, sometimes giving a firm squeeze, and rocks me from side to side.

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