NIKA

Safe From Harm

The first impression was...white. Blurry. The second was... sour stenches and then noises Voices, telephones... Pain. His arms hurt. All he wanted now was to slip back into unconsciousness. His head felt so heavy, everything was out of focus, hurting him. He had no resistance to offer. "Hello there." A female voice was louder than the others. He assumed the person was close to him, but he just couldn't focus. His mouth and lips were dry, when he tried to lick his lips he just couldn't, everything was sedated and heavy. His arms were covered with little points of pain, where they injected liquids into him, he guessed. He couldn't move them much, even when he tried. They were weighted, numb...like they weren't really connected to his body... "Seems you are waking up..." Again the voice, so close to him. Indistinct shapes were moving into his view: a black outline, the hair probably, and a blurry flesh-coloured mass, somewhere two black points, the eyes... A face. "Hello again." The gaping hole moving in the scheme must be the mouth. "I'm going to tell the Doctor that you are awake." The voice was friendly, yet a certain well-trained friendliness. "Hnnng..." a moan of hoarse refusal escaped his lips, but he was unable to form any comprehensible words. And his mind didn't mould them into working phrases anyway. The women disappeared. He lost himself in sensations. The small bed beneath him. Cool sheets covering him, shaping his body, since he had lost his own form. Everything was white. Even after the blur had vanished a little. Definitely a hospital. And then he finally realized something else. He wasn't dead. That meant that he had been saved. Why? And... What now? What now?! He wanted to die then, in the hospital. Even when it was just from shame. Steps closed up to him, making him cringe in the desire to curl into a tight ball and shut out the world. He was incapable of moving a single muscle, so he helplessly waited for whatever was about to happen to him. "Hello young man." For a change it was a male voice. But he just closed his eyes tighter, not wanting to hear. No no no! The man came too close. He could feel the man's breath, the smell of cigarettes and coffee touching his senses. A doctor. The word echoed through his head, filling him with a mixture of discord and fear. Stay away, don't come closer. Spare me your smells, curiosity and humanity. "What is your name, young man?" the male voice inquired in a friendly, but professional way. "I am Dr. Tsukamoto. We saved you the other day." Saved me? Hey, yeah. You saved me. That's why I wanted to die in the first place. To be saved by you. Just to make you feel good, because you are so goddamn heroic. Go away. But he held his lips and eyes tightly closed, hoping the world would go to hell. "I see. You don't wish to talk." The physician's voice held a lot of tiredness and some spark of amused contempt. He gave some sort advice to the nurse, who asked one thing: "What are we going to do about his relatives?" "Since he doesn't want to talk and carried no clue of his identity we have to contact the authorities. Ask for a missing boy and give his description." The voice hit his ears, suddenly very cold and unfeeling. "Yes, Doctor." Fuck the authorities. There is no missing boy matching the description you are going to give them, you'll see. To report a person missing, there had to be someone who detects that this person is actually gone. So forget about that clever plan of yours. You could've let me die. Suddenly an image flashed before his eyes. A pair of eyes, pupils widened in animalistic lust, reaching out to him with an unknown potential, sinking into him, chaining him to this reality he had tried to escape from. And there had been a promise also. Tears of anger and hate suddenly found their way on his cheeks. Go to hell for what you have done.

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