Falter (9 page)

Dr. Scott appeared insulted by my eagerness, but continued anyway. “Well, Nevaeh, your pupil reactions are perfect. No signs of an existing concussion. We’ll get you set up for a C.T. scan. The tech will come for you soon.” He looked one last time over my chart, wrote something, then smiled curtly and left.

I could have told him that there wasn’t a concussion, but I didn’t want to piss him off. My frustration with him, and the situation, stirred up more angst. I had to concentrate on the big picture, or I would lose it.
 

A half an hour passed when the C.T. tech, Doug, finally came to lead me to the machine that I hoped would provide some answers. We walked in silence until we came to a door with an orange and black radiation sign on it. The tech held the door open and gestured for me to step inside.

The room was cold and sterile. I squinted at the shockingly bright lights glaring off the stark white walls. A low, steady hum surged from within the sterile room.

“Go ahead and lay on the table. It will take me a minute to set everything up. Just relax and be still,” suggested the man.

I climbed on the narrow table, struggling with the need to fidget nervously. The tech remained at my side, his warm eyes urging me to relax while his hands braced my shoulders and guided me to lay down. He placed a plastic, cage-like apparatus around my head to keep me from moving during the test. The man then went into an adjoining room.
 

The shadow of the machine arching over my head shaded me from the bright lights above. Low knocking from the scanner and the drone of electricity pulsated around me. The energy radiated through my body and lulled me to a light trance.
 

Doug’s voice boomed from an intercom on the machine, “Ok, Nevaeh, we are going to begin. You need to stay very still during the test. It will take about fifteen minutes.”
 

I took a deep breath and crossed my arms over my chest, mimicking a mummy in a tomb. Shades of light shifted through the pinkish-yellow shield of my closed eyelids, and I began to move inside the mechanical ring. The table glided as smooth as the gears underneath would allow. A slight jerk indicated the end of the path before starting again in reverse. Then, the light filtered into dark purple through my lids, and a series of clicks and beeps rang loudly in my ears.
 

While I waited for the test to end, I called to mind the time George and I hitchhiked to the beach for our version of a vacation for a week. My muscles loosened. I eased into a restful daze, realizing how exhausted I was from the massive spurts of stress lately.

In one quick moment the air changed, yanking me away from the peace I almost found. It became thick and heavy—like mist. The odor of rotten eggs assaulted my nose. I tried to remain calm and still to finish the test, but ignoring the heightened dread I felt became impossible.
 

I told myself that I wasn’t alone. What’s the worst that could happen?
 

Wait...the clicking was different, less mechanical.
 

I opened my eyes slowly. The tunnel blocked the harsh hospital lights overhead.

“Hissss. Click. Click.”
 

A smoky shadow hovered above me. Another hiss rang in my ears. Fear lumped in my throat. I instinctively turned my head to search the room for help, but the damn head guard stopped my movement.

“Nevaeh, are you ok?” Doug’s voice bellowed over the intercom again. “We are almost done. Please don’t move.”
 

“I need to get out of here.” My voice shook.

“Give me just a minute more. If we stop now, we will have to redo the test,” Doug insisted.

“Please, hurry,” I begged.
 

Tears began to trickle down my temples. My skin crawled as the eerie sensation of evil energy twirled around me. My stomach roiled as the being’s ill intentions seeded in my mind. The good memories I focused on moments ago were now darkening under the phantom’s attempt to infiltrate my thoughts. With each sign of weakness I let surface, the being latched onto my emotions even stronger and pried its way a little deeper.
 

It was clear that the thing making the noises wasn’t going to leave me alone. Worse than that, the machine trapped me with it. I forced myself to ignore whatever it was and pretended I hadn’t heard anything.
 

I squeezed my eyes shut and slowed my breathing so I wouldn’t pass out from hyperventilation. No relief came. My body was so rigid that cramps developed in my limbs. I impatiently waited for the intercom to tell me I was allowed to get off the table.
 

A ghostly laugh startled me. It called my name in a playful, sinister tone that made me cringe.

My eyes flew open, and a face stared back at me. It wasn’t human. It was something dark and morbid. I blinked hard hoping the thing would go away, but it didn’t.
 

The phantom looked very flat and had no body, as if someone had cut the face off a skull and hung it above me. What features were discernible in its nearly translucent form contorted and shifted out of place then back again.
 

My stomach twisted when it smirked at me. The bile in my throat held back the scream struggling to escape.

“Hisss. Click. Click.” The sound erupted again from its stationary lips—almost in a questioning manner this time.

“Go away,” I shouted.
 

The lingering haze shifted from smoky-grey to brownish-red. Its eyes sharpened. The smirk morphed into a disturbed grimace.
 

Suddenly, it sprung toward my face. I squeezed my eyes shut so hard it hurt. There was nowhere for me to go. The cries I held exploded out from my mouth. I thrashed my arms and legs against the table violently, shaking the machine around me.

“Get me out,” I demanded. “Get me out!”

“Nevaeh, calm down. We’re done...we’re done. I’m coming. Hang on,” the tech said, alarmed by my behavior. His heavy footsteps hurried into the room.
 

The table carried me out of the hole. When the brightness of the overhead lights shined through my clenched eyelids, I felt safe enough to open them. I groaned, feeling the ache that settled into my legs and arms from the beating they took. And there was a strange burning sensation on my forehead.

The tech’s calming eyes came into view as he lifted the cage from around my head. “What’s going on? Are you ok?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling with concern.

I jolted up, throwing my legs off the side of the hard slab beneath me. “No, I’m not ok! Do I look ok?” I answered, my voice shrill and agitated. My shaky hands reached for him, clutching his shirt and holding onto him like I was drowning. We nearly toppled over as I pulled at him to get myself off the table, unable to escape the machine fast enough. Air flooded my lungs as I sucked in breaths faster than my body could tolerate.
 

After a minute or two of the tech reassuringly rubbing my back and cradling my trembling shoulders, the atmosphere began to lighten. My breathing finally slowed.

I peered up at him, embarrassed by what I’m sure looked to him like a fit of insanity, and offered a thankful smile. He patted my back, then moved to open the door. “Ready to go back to your room?”

I wiped the dampness from my cheeks with my sleeve and nodded. Walking toward the door, I noticed Doug staring at me with a strange expression on his face.
 

“Your forehead…there’s something there.” He squinted and pointed above my brow.

“What are you talking about?” I raised my hand to touch my forehead. The pressure of my fingers caused the burning sensation there to intensify. I gasped. “What is it?” I asked, wincing.

“Um, I think I need to take you back to the room and let the doctor talk to you.” His confused and worried tone renewed the sense of panic I was trying to suppress.
 

Before stepping into the hallway leading back to the Emergency Department, I scanned the room one last time for clues from the phantom. Nothing was out of place, but the faint smell of rotten eggs hadn’t quite dissipated yet.
 

I palmed my stinging forehead and let Doug lead the way back.

Dr. Scott showed up at my bedside about forty minutes later. The stinging on my head had lessened during the excruciatingly long time lapse. All I wanted now was to be back with my family. For Gavyn to hold my hand again. For the comfort of George’s cushy body against mine.

The curtain slid back, and Dr. Scott greeted me with a pleasantly confident smile. “Okay, well, the scan didn’t show anything that we need to worry about.”

“But it did show something?” I asked, sensing he was omitting information.

He pursed his lips in contemplation then answered, “At the end of the test an artifact appeared. The tech said that it disappeared as quickly as it came. He thinks it was a computer glitch. It wasn’t on the films, so I’m not worried.” His demeanor reflected his words.

“So I’m okay? Could it be something psychological?” Maybe I’m crazy after all.

“I can refer you to a therapist if you want, but I think your experiences are stress related.” He smiled reassuringly. “Now, the tech said you might have scratched yourself during the exam?”

“I guess.” I pulled back a clump of hair covering my forehead.

His expression changed for a split second, almost unnoticeably. He was hiding his true feelings—a skill he probably learned in medical school. “It looks more like a burn to me,” Dr. Scott remarked as he leaned in toward me and narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing my skin. “It’s a little singed around the edges, but not deep.”
 

I watched him closely, monitoring any variation in his manner that might seem out of place. Then, his eyes changed. He was studying the mark more intently. He’d found something odd about it.

“What is it?” I tried not to sound alarmed.

“Well, I didn’t notice it at first, but it looks a little like...,” he paused, seeming to second-guess what he saw. He handed me a small mirror from the supply cart beside my bed. “I’ll just let you look for yourself. It’s nothing, I’m sure.”
 

I held the mirror up to examine my face. At first glance, it looked like two thin lines were burned into my head, one intersecting through the middle of the other. I rubbed at it to see if that would smooth it out. It didn’t; it just hurt like hell.

“Do you see anything strange about it?” the doctor questioned, watching my face for a sign of recognition.

I stared harder, searching for what he saw. “I guess not. What’s so strange about it, besides the fact it shouldn’t be there?”

“Are you a religious person, Ms. Richards?”

I shook my head. Though I’d never been much on prayer and church, I had read the Bible and studied a few major religions at my library for moral and cultural direction.
 

“To me, it looks very similar to an inverted cross. Probably doesn’t mean a thing. The precise positioning is just a little strange.” The doctor penned some notes on a notepad, while I stared at the mirror.

I finally understood what he saw. I guess it depends on what you took from it. Two lines crossing each other? Or, the sign of the Devil? It was a pretty far-fetched comparison, but the weird supernatural-like shit happening to me lately made me ponder on the symbol far longer than I was comfortable with.

“Doctor, you don’t know how it got there, but I do. These are the kinds of things I was telling you about.”
 

I was pissed. And not knowing exactly what I was mad about made me even more pissed. It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t witnessed the crazy things going on in my head. I needed him to assure me that there was a reasonable explanation for my experiences even though I didn’t feel there was.

“I’m sure it will be fine. Under high amounts of stress, we tend to do harm to ourselves without realizing it. I’ll write you something to help you relax. If you have any more problems, let me know.” He waited for me to approve the plan.

Did he just imply that I did this to myself?
 

I nodded and kept my anger silent. I wanted to get out of this place.

He held out his hand, palm up and open. “It was nice to meet you. The nurses will be here with your paperwork soon.”