Can't Feel My Legs

The ringing of Lumen Ater's phone brought her conscious awareness back to the present moment. Her head lolled against the window. Dried blood was caked and smeared across her left temple. Her blood pressure pounded her skull mercilessly. Her breath was slow and, painfully, shallow. She had definitely broken several ribs. Her low back ached. She shifted slightly to sit up. Fire hot pain seared her low back. She gasped, aggravating her broken ribs. She moaned. Lumen Ater took several small breaths to try and ease some of the pain.

The fire in her back subsided minimally as she let the bowed in car door take her full weight once more. Her entire upper body felt weak. She could barely feel her hips. Definitely couldn't feel her legs. She struggled to open her eyes. Several of her windows were shattered, but relatively intact. Shards of glass littered her lap, the dashboard, and the floor on the passenger side. Her neck felt stiff and tight and she didn't dare try to move it to see if there was more damage behind her. It was dark out. And wet.

Lumen Ater turned her eyes back to her lap. She still had her legs, but she couldn't feel them. Even pressing into them weakly with her fingers didn't produce a sensation. She exhaled all of her breath. Her phone rang again as she sucked her next breath in between her teeth. She recognized Riku's Theme from Kingdom Hearts II. She was never an avid gamer, but it was an appropriate alert relating to one of her current jobs. The 45 second waltz played once more before crunching, grinding, and scraping, grated against her eardrums.

Bright white light flooded her car. She closed her eyes, grimacing as the large truck was pulled away from hers. The light dimmed. But only for a moment. A bright light returned followed by garbled voices. Lumen Ater opened her eyes, but didn't try to move her head. As uncomfortable as her position was, her discomfort was at least bearable. One of the emergency responders called a little louder through the broken glass to try and get her attention. Lumen Ater blinked, but didn't try to lift her eyes toward the man trying to get her attention. She shivered. Cold, humid, air leaked into the car as the door behind her creaked, screeched, and crunched in protest.

The car jostled slightly once the door was off. Warm fingers pressed against her carotid artery. "We've got a pulse," the man said. "It's quick, but steady."

Lumen Ater shivered and closed her eyes.

"Her eyes have closed," another voice said.

The man behind her swore. "Give me that neck brace."

The car jostled a little more as the first man climbed further into the car. He pulled the back of the passenger seat down. A set of smaller hands supported her head and neck. Then the first man pulled her away from the door. The motion wrenched her back as they straightened her torso. Her stomach clenched and she threw up. The hands, supporting her head and neck, kept their hold. Lumen Ater's next breath hitched several times. They waited until she had taken a couple breaths before they clasped the neck brace around her neck. The creaking and screeching started again, only much, much louder. More of the cold, humid, night air swirled around her as the fire crew removed her door.

A thick blanket was set over her before they cut the roof supports off the front of the car. The metal snapped and popped as they rolled it back. Lumen Ater thought they'd pull her out then, but the crew continued to work. The noises coming from the machine and her car grew even louder. Loudest in front of her where the steering column was. Only when the noises stopped did Lumen Ater feel the presence of more hands on her upper body that moved her—as one—to a stretcher. They hurried her through the cold, under the nearly blinding flashes of red, white, yellow, and blue lights.

The cold warmed dramatically. Her ears rang with the slamming of the ambulance doors. There were two bangs on the closed doors before they started to move. The two EMTs riding in the back with her cut away her shirt and pants as they cleaned her up a little while checking for injuries and hooking her up to several monitoring machines.

"Bruising on her left side," a man said. "Help me roll her to her side. One… two… three."

Lumen Ater moaned.

"Definite bruising in the lumbar region…. Vitals are steady."

"Always a good sign," a female voice replied.

The man didn't vocally acknowledge her words and they gently lay her on her back once more. Lumen Ater could feel the woman's hands still, but had no idea what the man was doing until he spoke.

"Lumen Ater Clayton. Twenty-four. Resident of Mattapan."

"Murder Pan? Really?"

"…Student at Lincoln Technical Institute. …Let's see. There's a medical card here. …Metal structuring in several places."

"Can't do an MRI then."

"Nope."

The ambulance pitched as it sunk into a pothole. The pain in Lumen Ater's ribs and back flared as darkness took her.