Dim light streaming through a broken window.
Shards of glass scattered on the hardwood floor.
I lie in a heap, my face a bloody mess,
strewn torn curtains hanging out through the window.
A howl in the distance, the call of the wild.
Moaning and gasping for the gulps of air I know I won’t ever get,
I struggle to push myself to my feet.
You can’t just lie here. Wake up and get out of here before that
animal gets to you first.
An aching, in my bones and through my flesh, erupts from
inside me, bringing me back to my knees.
Reluctantly, I oblige by my body’s wishes.
I wait awhile, hoping the pain will eventually die down.
Die, please die, a voice whispered to my crippled mind.
I resist the urge to shout, to scream away the burning, the torment.
Hold on just a little while longer, I force my mind to hang onto what little time
I have left.
This will all be over very, very soon. I promise.
A howl in the distance the call of the wild.
My breathing turns frantic now, anxious to be rid of that bloodthirsty creature that
awaits my presence.
Lying back down on the slit embroidered carpet, I gaze out at the starry night sky.
I wonder about my family, where they are and how they are handling me being unconscious.
How they can stand to see my arms and legs lying still underneath the covers of the
hospital bed, my face turned down in a pained frown of sorrow.
I am not awake, but I am not in a coma.
I am alone, beside and inside myself, waiting.
Waiting for my withered spirit to realize it is dying, to wake up.
I know my loved ones are standing beside me, each clutching at the same life line that
I am holding onto in an iron grasp.
A howl in the distance, the call of the wild.
“Leave me alone!” I shout over the howls in rage.
The howling dies down, and all that is left is the silence.
Silence, it cuts through me like a knife.
Silence, such a loud, annoying thing.
Nagging me, poking and prodding at me, hoping I will give up.
Give in to temptation.
Hold on, just a little while longer.
I shake my head, already making up my decision.
I allow the howls of the night to envelope me, to take me away
from the cutting silence.
My healing head falls ever so softly against the floorboards.
I turn my head to the side, enough to see the jagged claw marks on the wood.
Nail beds face up, blood pouring down in a dark red river.
Pools of red are around me now, slithering over me like a singed snake.
A howl in the distance, the call of the wild.
I close my eyes.
Fluorescent light, that of a morning sunrise, grins back at me as
my eyes flutter open.
Silhouettes dance in and out of my vision in colorful blurs.
My head spins but I don’t care.
Sitting straight up in my papery gown, I reach foreword
and I am swept up into a warm embrace.
I survived.
