Lesson 13 Alarming

An alarm. Is that what it is? A constant, monotonous beep, beep, beep. I reach my hand out to find my phone. What’s wrong with my eyes? Why won’t they open? What time is it? My hands reach up to touch my eyes – they’re swollen, closed. I can’t open them. The beeping – what the hell is that beeping. I can hear voices around me, but I can’t get any words to come out.

‘Her sats are dropping…’
‘Hold up on the morphine, she’s already compromised.’

The voices start to sound more and more distant. Other voices come forward.

‘Annie, Annie sweetheart… when are you going to tidy your room? Honestly, you won’t have a mum to tidy up after you when you are off at college.’
‘Mum, just leave it. I didn’t ask you to tidy up after me.’ I kiss her forehead and wave her goodbye as I see myself, my whole life packed into my first car – a 58 Morris Minor, heading off down the road. Graeme asks me if I want him to drive.

‘No, I’m ok… why don’t you pick some music?’

Meatloaf, Bat out of Hell. Cranked up to maximum volume – the little Morris shakes.
We’re lying in bed, mist still blanketing the valley. Why did we ever leave there? I could have stayed in his arms that way for eternity, but he let me go. Said I had too much to do to stay there with him. And I did.

I’m in Ethiopia with my team from the NGO. I can taste the honey pancakes cooked on the roadside on those little brassieres, feel the rumble of our transport heading out along the bumpy gravel roads. Megan’s touch confuses and excites me. She is fascinating. Intelligent, and strong. Nothing fazes her, not even when a group start firing their kalishnikovs into the air. She grabs my hand to steady me.

Our lives become enmeshed and I was certain this would be the person I would grow old with. I can’t hear her voice though, I can’t remember what it sounds like. Why not?

‘I won’t be coming with you, this time. I won’t be coming with you anymore.’
I was throwing the last of my things into my travel bag, not focused on what was being said until it was out there, hanging over me like a guillotine ready to drop.
‘What do you mean? You coming on a later flight?’
‘I’m not coming, … at all. I’m saying goodbye.’

That bloody alarm again. Someone shut off that bloody alarm. I can’t hear her. I can’t hear her. What is she saying?

‘Stay with us, Annie. You’re safe here. I’m with you now.’

Not a voice in my semi-conscious state. A voice in the room with me that I never thought I would hear again. My eyes still won’t open, but now I find my voice.

‘Get out. Get her out of here,’ I scream, in my head at least. What comes out is strangled and soft, but it’s enough for the nurse to ask Megan to leave.