I was a woman hurriedly pushingly a gravely wound young man in a wheelchair. Blood was everywhere, his entrails were barely holding in, part of his leg was missing. He was barely holding onto life, but I kept him alive through this pseudo-necromancy magic I had casted which was exhausting me. I arrived at a dirty white room which I knew was located within a huge, empty, and run-down convention hall.
Inside, I found a nurse and a doctor who looked like they were in the middle of cleaning up after another patient they treated prior to our arrival. There was blood and dirty bandages all-over the floor. They looked aghast as soon as they saw me enter the room.
“What happened?!” Asked the doctor.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said as calmly as I could. “I’m…I’m going to bring him to you.”
As I picked up the man from the wheelchair, I jokingly said to him hoping to lighten the mood, “Wow, aren’t you much lighter than I remember?”
“No,” he said through labored coughing. Some blood bleeds out from the gash on his stomach. “You’ve just gotten that much stronger.”
I’m on the verge of tears at this point.
I set the young man down on the operating table and the doctor began to examine him. The nurse proceeded to swiftly prep for some kind of operation. (I don’t remember her that much. Just that she had a very calm and stern face, but I knew she cared deep down.)
I hold the injured man’s hand. Looking deeply into his eyes, I tell him assuredly, “I swear, I’ll see you again.” The man looked at me kindly and lovingly.
“I don’t know if I can do this, it may already be too late!” said the doctor.
“No. No, I know it’s not. Just do it,” I say back. And I repeat to the injured man, “I swear. I’ll see you again. And it won’t be long ’til then.”
Just then, the man weakly pressed his fingers against my forearm and my hand a few times. It was a secret language that communicates through touch.
“What…? What did he say?” the doctor asked.
I’m silent for a moment. I felt utterly devastated yet equally full of hope all at once. “He said—“
(Oh. And my boyfriend had a dream that same night. His dream was that I “had the same socks as [him] but better.”)
titsay
2087
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theartofmadeline
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