Ayla woke up in the hospital, but she couldn’t open her eyes, they felt too heavy. Nothing was working. She couldn’t move, see, or hear. It was as if all her senses had shut down completely. It felt like she was floating in a void, weightless and silent. She closed her already locked?shut eyes and drifted back into dreaming. There was nothing to do but wait until her strength returned.
Slowly, the memories of what happened before she ended up in the hospital began to return. She remembered the slap, the angry and twisted expression on Marissa’s face, and the loud ringing in her head. She also remembered falling and hitting her head on something before everything went black. As the thoughts flooded in, her head began to ache, almost as if her body was reliving the pain from that moment. It hurt all over.
And then she woke up.
This time she could actually open her eyes, and all her senses were back. Ayla noticed her sister beside her, crying. She scanned Lyanna’s face, she looked frail, as if she hadn’t eaten for days. Ayla wouldn’t be surprised if that was true, since she was the only one who worked in the family. Lyanna was ill, seriously ill.
And Ayla’s brother, Elias… well, he wasn’t going to help around the house. Elias often yelled or threw things at her and Lyanna. He usually stayed out drinking with old men and their deadbeat father. Their mother had died after their father hurt her, and before that, she had been very ill too, just like Lyanna.
Ayla wanted to comfort her sister, so she slowly and weakly reached her hand toward her. When their hands connected, warmth spread throughout Ayla’s body. When her sister saw she was awake, her sobs grew louder. She was shaking and gasping for air every now and then between cries.
Lyanna caught sight of Ayla’s face and her expression. Ayla noticed her staring and gave her a small smile, as if to say, It’s okay. Don’t cry. I’m fine. We’ll be fine. Lyanna jumped up from her chair, still crying.
Ayla grew worried; her sister looked like she could collapse at any moment. But Lyanna only gripped Ayla’s hand tighter. Both of their hands were trembling. Lyanna’s shaking came from the crying, and Ayla’s came from how deeply she cared for her sister.
Ayla almost started crying herself, but before that could happen, she steadied her dry, shaky voice and gently asked her sister to sit back down. Lyanna did as she was told and sat back down in her chair. The sisters talked for a bit before the doctor came in.
Ayla knew the doctor; it wasn’t her first time in the hospital. It was Dr. Clara Whitmore. Dr. Whitmore began explaining the condition Ayla was in. It wasn’t good. She had hit her head badly from the fall, but the reason she collapsed in the first place was from physical exhaustion and poor health. When you barely sleep or eat, it becomes a problem, and all the hard work must have been catching up with her. This was bad.
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Ayla asked Dr. Whitmore how long she would have to stay, and when she could go back home. The doctor knew Ayla’s history. She had been in the hospital about seven times this year, all for the same reason. Dr. Whitmore knew Ayla worked herself to the bone, and if she didn’t rest, she’d end up dead at this rate.
Dr. Whitmore tried explaining this to her, but Ayla wouldn’t listen. She gripped the side of her hospital bed, pouring all her strength into her arm as she pushed herself up, weak and trembling. Lyanna let out a soft, panicked whelp at the sight of her sister trying to stand.
Ayla stood stubbornly, still leaning on the bed for support. Her legs trembled beneath her, but she refused to show it. Lyanna rushed to her side, worried sick, her hands hovering helplessly as if afraid touching Ayla would make her crumble. Dr. Whitmore was stunned and firmly told Ayla to lie back down, his voice sharper than before. But Ayla didn’t back down. Her expression twisted into something painful and exhausted as she slid one leg forward, breath hitching with the effort.
The mere thought that her sister wasn’t eating because their deadbeat father and moron of a brother couldn’t get themselves together and actually work for anything in their lives was ridiculous. The anger burned through her, pushing her far past her limit. Veins stood out beneath her skin, her pulse hammering wildly, and Dr. Whitmore knew Ayla’s body wouldn’t be able to take much more. Lyanna could see it too, the way Ayla’s eyes unfocused, the way her grip on the bed tightened like she was holding on for dear life.
Her nose began to bleed. Lyanna’s scream echoed through the room as Ayla collapsed, her body giving out all at once. Everything went black again.
As her eyes flickered open, Ayla saw that she was floating in a weightless, endless light. It felt warm. For one of the first times in her life, she felt relaxed. The warmth wrapped around her frozen body, and golden specks drifted through the air like dancing snowflakes just like the kind she had always loved. They drifted past her fingertips, dissolving into soft sparks when she tried to touch them.
She looked around, blinking, trying to understand where she was. There were no walls, no floor, no ceiling. The space didn’t echo, didn’t breathe, it simply existed. It felt like standing inside a dream she wasn’t supposed to be in.
Then she saw her.
A girl stood a few steps away, glowing faintly in the white haze. Long hair, soft features, eyes that looked strangely familiar. Ayla’s breath caught. Something in her chest tightened, a strange pull she couldn’t explain.
“Ievy…?” she whispered, though she didn’t know how she knew the name. It just slipped out, instinctive and certain.
The girl didn’t speak. She only watched Ayla with a calm, almost knowing expression, almost like she had been waiting for her. There was no fear in her eyes, only quiet acceptance.
Ayla reached out, confused and unsteady. “Why are you here…? What is this place…”
Before she could touch her, the light around them shattered like glass. Ayla screamed as the white void began to collapse, the sound echoing endlessly in the emptiness. Terrified, she squeezed her eyes shut, pretending she wasn’t falling, pretending the world wasn’t breaking apart beneath her.
But after a moment, she realized she hadn’t hit anything. No impact. No pain. Just weightlessness.
Slowly, she opened her eyes.
And she wasn’t Ayla anymore. She was Ievy. The scent of pine filled her lungs, crisp and unfamiliar, as a cold breeze brushed against her new skin.
Author’s Note:
Sould i continue+
