Page 20 of The Fates We Tame

“Theo, it’s Dr. Sharma. Can you sit up and open your eyes for me?”

When I open them, a doctor is crouched in front of me. With Sophia’s help, I sit up and am rewarded with a light being shined into my eyes.

“It’s exactly…same as.” I wince.

“It’s the same as what happened in the visitors’ room?” Dr. Sharma asks.

I nod.

Fuck me.

This can’t be the rest of my life.

“Just stay where you are, Theo. I’m going to take you for a scan. I’m sure it’s just the normal pressure from the swellingyou’ve had to the brain. But let’s be certain. Don’t move while I get you a wheelchair.”

I try to push up. “No. I don’t want… I can walk.”

Both Sophia and Dr. Sharma try to stop me. “Don’t risk it,” Sophia says. “Trust me, you’ll only do more damage if you fall.”

I hate the feeling of weakness. I don’t know exactly who I was before this happened, but I know I wasn’t weak. My body, my cut, and my earlier memories tell me that.

But I can’t explain all that to the two women looking at me.

Not when I feel so sick, like I’m gonna vomit if I so much as breathe.

Panic trickles through me. What if I’m not getting better? What if I’m actually getting worse?

“Fine,” I say, placing my head back on Sophia’s lap. It felt…safer…there. Like nothing could touch me and all dangers would pass.

Sophia leans forward and places her lips next to my ear. “I know right now you’re having a mental battle with yourself. You want to believe Sharma’s words, but you also think something is very wrong. Stop thinking about either, Theo. Find the happiest memory you still have left and cling to it for now.”

I try to find a memory. My dad’s face when I got my prospect cut. A road trip we took to Baja the summer Clutch turned eighteen. But the one I settle on is my mom hanging laundry outside on a sunny day. The sky is fucking blue. The sheets, white. I have a beer in my hand, and I’m sitting shirtless on a chair in the backyard. Mom laughs at the story I’m telling her.

And it’s fucking peace.

The kind of youthful delusion that I’m invincible.

My heart rate slows.

“Better,” Sophia says quietly.

Staying focused on the positive memories helps as I’m wheeled to the CT scan.

I hate it. Hate confined spaces. I hate being prodded. I hate all of this.

I don’t want my head shoved in another machine.

“You need to let go of my hand,” Sophia says. “I’m not allowed to stay with you.”

I drop it like a hot potato. Hadn’t even realized I was clinging to her like some kid who didn’t want to go to class on his first day of school.

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

But as I’m transferred onto the medical bed, I realize I’m not.

Sophia and Dr. Sharma leave the room while the radiographer sets up what he needs.

Closing my eyes, I try to relax, but it’s impossible.