Pale Bodies

Dezmonds mom was downstairs reading her Nora Roberts book when she heard a loud thud from upstairs. A flash of Charlotte falling to the ground entered her head. She dropped her book and it fell to the ground. She ran upstairs and into D's room, he was on the ground seizing.

"Oh my god, baby! Dez!" She screamed into the thickening air. She grabbed Dez and turned him on his side, spit spilling down the side of his mouth. He stopped convulsing and lay weak, his eyes barely opening.

"Charlotte." He whispered.

"Shh, it's okay, baby."

"Charlotte." He said again weakly, pointing towards his wall. He could see a faded bodied girl sitting in his bed, sliding something under his pillow and patting it, her red hair, now brighter than ever, pulled back in a ponytail, two stands hanging down the front of her face, framing her freckles.

Chills shot down the neck of Mrs. Washington and she quickly turned her head to look at the bed. She saw nothing.

"No one is there, baby..."

"Charl-" Dezmond closed his eyes. Mr. Washington met them at the hospital.

"Your son has suffered mild head trauma, nothing serious just a mild concussion," the doctor said, "just keep him well hydrated and don't let him sleep 12-18 hours after he wakes up to prevent a coma." He finished, looking at her son then back at her.

"Do you maybe have some food or a cafe in here by chance?" Asked Mrs. Washington, and the three of them left the small room.

There was no movement in the room, only the sound of the heart monitor and bubbling of the large wall fish tank. The Satline hospital was by far the richest building within 50 miles of Orksville, and lucky for Dezmond and his concussion it was only 12 minutes away, unless of course you are Mrs. Washington with a hurt son bleeding by the head in her back seat, then it's 7 minutes away, because in an emergency stop signs are invisible.

Dezmonds fingers began twitching slowly. He opened his eyes slightly leaving only a blurred gap to see from. Sitting on the end of his hospital bed was a blurry looking person. A girl. Her hair falling daintily off one shoulder, pulled back in a ponytail. Two strands hanging down the front of her face, framing her freckles.

     D forced his eyes open and sat up sharply. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Had this all been a dream?

    "Hey, D..." she said, smiling at him, her voice almost whispy. Dezmond sat staring at her. He looked down at her arms, where the blood from her wrists had drowned his smile. There were two faint scars, long ways down her arm.

    "Charlotte?" He asked, tears welling in his eyes. He removed the I.V from his arm, and unhooked his heart monitor. "C?" He weakly got up and stumbled towards her at the end of the bed. He reached out his hand and touched her cold pale cheek. "You're real," he said, a single tear rolling down his face and dripping off his chin, "you're alive?" He asked, now holding her face with both hands.

   "Not quite, D..."

    "What do you mean?"

    "You brought be back, D...but I'm not really here."

    "I did?"

     "Yes."

     "...But how?"

     "You did what I asked you not to." Silence filled the hospital room. "You froze, and rebuilt me." And she vanished.