Page 4 of Not Her Day to Die

Grayson and Axel.

As soon as they step into the doorway, my vision fills with a blinding light.

***

The bright fluorescent bulbs are painful against my eyes. They shoot by blurringly. As soon as I focus on one, the next appears.

The smell and sounds hit me rapidly.

Chemical. Blaring. Sterile. Sirens.

None of it is pleasant, and I want nothing more than to make it all go away.

I am a foggy mess as I attempt to sit up.

“Lay back down! She’s coming to! Sweetheart, you were shot, you need to stay still. We’re going to take care of you, but you need to go into surgery. Who is your emergency contact?” A face bends over, her features are unfamiliar, but she is wearing scrubs.

She reminds me of my parents.

The lights stop whipping by as we pause our movement.

“Where is Darius?” My throat throbs. It is thick, full of cotton and sharp razor blades. He was the last face I remember. He was holding me.

He wouldn’t justleaveme.

“Sunday!”

“You have to get back! She needs to go into surgery.” The nurse whose voice had been so kind before turns cruel.

“Grayson is her emergency contact. Let us through!”

Axel and Grayson’s voices are a salve, and I shift my head in their direction. In my search for them, my attention lands on a sole woman leaning against a white plastic wall.

She is distinctly out of place and it catches my attention. Keeps it. Her clothes are dirty and torn. Her long chestnut hair is messy, her brown eyes listless.

Déjà vu slaps me against the face, presses down on my chest, rings into my ears.

My vision shifts as what I am lying on–a hospital bed–is pushed again.

The unusual woman lifts a finger to her lips.

A yin and yang tattoo on full display.

A scream rings out around me.

“Administer–”

My vision darkens, the fluorescent lights leaving ghostly trails. The sounds and smells fade into nothingness.

And it isn’t until I am nearly under that I realizeIwas the person screaming.

3

August 20th

Whoosh.

“You need to leave. The blackmail they have on you both–”