The last time I heard from her, was when I was about to get out of the hospital.
While I was off the drugs and painkillers, wires and tabs were still attached to me to monitor my state, the crooning beep of the monitors keeping me company through the silence of the night.
And it was in one of those nights, as I rested and dreamed of a time in where I didn’t used to dream, that I heard her voice.
A simple start.
I didn’t wake up at first, pretty much believing in my half-asleep state that this voice was nothing more than another dream about to start, the prelude of bizarre images about to come to accompany it.
But no dreams did start, as the whisper crooned me to wake, and gently pushed my subconscious out of my mindset.
And with the jazzy rhythm of the monitor beeps, the soft lullaby that lures me to sleep, the voice came again.
My name echoing in her voice.
Slowly rising, my eyelids still tired, my iris refocused and allowed the dim light in the room to reflect the sight back to me.
And in the room, the emptiness remained.
The dark cover that keeps us all alone.
Sighing, slightly confused, slightly disappointed, my mind set itself to sleep again.
But that was when the voice arrived again.
Slowly waking up, this time trying to clear my mind some more, I looked around.
The room was still empty.
And before I knew it, something lit up in the room.
A glow that felt barely warm, icy blue that was barely there.
And with a bit of fear and caution, I turned towards the source of light, nightmares and imageries of possible horrible outcomes glanced through my mind.
Yet when I saw it, it all disappeared.
She was glowing in the middle of the holograph image, her smile warm, unlike the glow that her imagery made.
“Sorry for it all.” She said simply, as if it was the bookend to everything that has already happed to us all.
It took me a while to answer, to even make the answer form itself in my head.
The lips trembled, and it did so for a bit, yet when it finished, all that would come out of it was “For?”
She chuckled at it, as if I had said something funny, an inside joke that I just didn’t get.
“For everything.” She said simply. “For trying to protect me, for being shot and flipped in the car, for almost killing yourself just for my safety.
“For allowing me a chance to talk to you again.”
Looking at her, I didn’t know what else to say, except to wonder if this was all still a dream, if it’ll all end without an answer as dreams usually end.
Yet she smiled again and remained there.
“You’re welcome.” Was all that I could say.
Her lips curved more from my words.
A tender moment fictionalized by the glow surrounding us both.
“I have to go again.” She said after we both had our chances to dip into our individual random thoughts. “I think you already know why, so there’s really no point for me to waste words on it at all.”
“But why?” I asked before she even finished her words. “You should come back to FIBA, we could protect you better from the killer.”
She laughed at that. She knew as much as I did that what I just said was a lie. She had a much better chance not being associated by any government agencies at all, because that was the best way to get yourself targeted, the best way to get yourself found.
But I didn’t care, I just wanted her back, and I was pretty sure she knew that as much as I did.
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” She replied simply. “And I’m sure you know the reasons as much as I do, so I’ll just save those words for now as well.”
“So what are you going to do?”
She looked away, as if looking at some other foreign object just off the screen. “Don’t know,” she smiled at this, as if it was a perfectly normal situation to be stuck in. “But to tell you good-bye.”
“Is this all that this whole stunt was for?”
“Well, that, and I needed to keep my hacking skills polished if I wish to survive out there.”
“Right.” Now was my chance to smile as if this was all just a normal thing to happen.
“What else can I say, really?”
“You could say that this was all a trap,” I smiled at it. “That I should really hate you for this, I should really despise you for all that you did.”
She smiled at this, even though I was looking away in a dazed state, even though I wanted this departure to be less bittersweet than what it was already turning into.
“Your heart is already crushed.” She replied in a whisper.
“Why did you come back? If you were to leave again?”
Looking off again, looking off away, she gave out a little sigh. “Would you believe me if I said that it was to see you again?”
She knew that I wouldn’t.
“Let’s just say that you were the only one I still knew in this world that I had know before,” she continued. “The only real link between the past and the present, the only thing that still exists between these two eras of my life.
“The lifesaver floating in the middle of a wafting sea.
“And if it makes you feel any better, you are the only one I trust, the only one I still want to save in this screwed up world of ours.”
“But I’m already too late to save.” I responded as soon as she ended, not even looking directly at her.
“You are never too late to save.” She said back, as her image started to flick, and the rooms were bombarded with intermittence of complete dark. “And you still have a choice, for how you want to live.
“Remember what I said.”
“What did you say?” I asked.
Yet no answer ever came.
The communication interrupted, the holograph disappeared.
The black blanket covering everything up again.
In the midst of it all, I was able to go back to sleep.
And in the dream of that night, I was encased in a capsule, my body stiff, tired and sore, unable to move.
And beyond that glass window that covered the front of my jail, I saw the wasted barren land on the horizon, as a blazing sun appeared beyond that little slit that was at the end of my world, and showed me the little details that I could barely make out with the blurry vision of my half-open eyes.
Capsules sticking out here and there, humans asleep in each of them, everyone wafting in their own sleep.
And searching for her, I couldn’t find her even though I tried, even though I wanted to.
And I slept, once again, in the dream, just to wake up here.
On my bed, alone again.
The sun still not up at the horizon of this world.
I’m trying to get some rest from all the unborn chicken voices in my head.