My Cursed Love

Chapter 3: Waking up

-Elena-

Beep. Beep. Beep.

That sound. I knew it all too well. Why was I hearing it now? Was I not dead? Maybe I was just close to death. Yes, that must be it. I was near death, and soon that beeping would stop, and I would finally find peace. God, peace. It was hard to imagine after so long. To be honest, I didn’t know how long it had been since I last felt any semblance of peace—days? Weeks? Months? Maybe even years. It was hard to tell when you’re kept in darkness. That terrible, suffocating darkness.

No, I wouldn’t think about it anymore. Soon, they wouldn’t be able to hurt me. Soon, I would be gone forever and finally allowed to rest. Never again would I be slapped or beaten so violently that I couldn’t stand, or thrown against a wall. Never again would I be starved or feel so parched that my own saliva seemed like the coolest water I’d ever drunk.

Never again!

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Would that beeping ever stop? It was driving me mad. I was ready to die—so why not just let me? Why keep me waiting? Could it be… was I even dying? As I pondered this, I began to notice things around me. I wasn’t just hearing something. I could smell too. The air was thick with the scent of chemicals and a faint hint of perfume. Was that right? Yes, it seemed familiar, like a perfume I had smelled a thousand times before. What was happening?

I tried to move, to confirm whether I was imagining these sensations or if I was actually dying. My body didn’t respond, but I felt something soft, smooth, and warm. Was that a blanket? No, I must be imagining things. I didn’t feel pain, only warmth, so I must be dying, right? What other explanation could there be?

I decided to let the warmth envelop me and surrender to it. It was okay. I was ready. I was exhausted and worn out. Now was my time to rest. I stopped questioning the things around me and cleared my mind. I lay there, ready to be taken away.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

After a while, the beeping felt almost ridiculous. It persisted, and if anything, it had become clearer to my ears. The smell of chemicals and perfume lingered, and the warmth and smoothness were still present. I couldn’t make sense of it. Wasn’t I supposed to be dead? I remembered jumping off a cliff and the suffocating water, so why did I still hear, smell, and feel? Was I really dead?

I tried to see if I could move again, but my body didn’t respond. The last time I tried, it made me think I was dead, but maybe something else was happening. I attempted to move again, starting with my toes. Nothing. Maybe my foot? Still nothing. It was as if my limbs were numb, though I could still feel them. They just wouldn’t respond to my commands.

I moved further up, trying to move my leg. Nothing. Frustration began to build. I tried again. Still no movement. I decided to focus on something smaller. My finger. No response at first, but I kept trying. Then, just for a second, I felt something. My thumb moved! It brushed slightly against my other finger, and I felt it!

Okay, it was starting to become clear that I probably wasn’t as dead as I’d thought. So where was I, then? I tried moving my fingers again, but they didn’t seem to want to cooperate.

Aaaargh. This was incredibly frustrating. I continued moving up my body. My arms didn’t move, nor did my upper body or head. But when I tried moving my head again, I felt light seeping through my closed eyelids. The intense light that flooded in hurt like hell as it struck my sensitive eyes.

But now something was happening. I managed to open my eyes slightly, and though the light was brutal, I kept trying. I had to close them quickly, but I persisted, allowing my eyes to gradually adjust. Soon, it didn’t feel like I was staring directly into the sun. The blinding whiteness began to take on colors and shapes.

Yes, I could now see the lamps in the ceiling, shining brightly into my eyes. They didn’t care that it hurt me. They just did their job, providing light to the room. The room... I was in some kind of room, but since my head wasn’t cooperating, I could do nothing but stare up at the ceiling. I quickly grew bored and tried again to make my body obey.

It took some time, but suddenly, I managed to turn my head to the right. The movement caused only a slight ache, but soon I found myself face-to-face with the machine that emitted that relentless beeping sound. Despite its reassuring signal that my heart was still beating, the machine brought back painful memories. I closed my eyes as thoughts of my parents’ car crash overwhelmed me. Why did I have to survive that day while they did not?

I quickly pushed those painful memories aside. They wouldn’t help me now. I opened my eyes again, eager to take in my surroundings. As I scanned the right side of the room, I saw the machine by my bed, a glass wall with curtains drawn to obscure the view from outside, and a white door at the end of the wall. My gaze followed the gray curtains to the farthest end of the room, where I spotted something surprising against the white wall. I blinked repeatedly, struggling to believe what I was seeing.

Holy s**t! By the wall, on a small white chair, sat a woman in her thirties with her head in her hands. She wore a black, knee-length skirt, a white shirt, and small black high heels. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She appeared thin, perhaps slightly below a healthy weight, and her skin was quite pale. Who was she, and why was she sitting like that?

I wanted to speak, eager to find out more about this woman and her presence here. I tried to open my mouth, but no words came out. My frustration grew as I struggled to regain control over my body. As my frustration mounted, I noticed my body beginning to move slightly, and my heartbeat started to quicken. Despite my efforts, I still couldn’t speak. What was wrong with me?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The incessant beeping of the machine only added to my irritation. The woman’s reaction was sudden. She moved her index and middle fingers apart on her left hand to peek out. When she saw that I was awake and moving, she gasped, jumped up, and rushed to the door, slamming it open with such force that it banged against the wall. The sound of the impact nearly made my ears ring. I felt incredibly fragile right now, but the woman’s startled exit piqued my curiosity. What had just happened? Why was she so frightened?

My head returned to its previous position as I stared up at the harsh white ceiling and those unforgiving lights. I replayed the scene in my mind, trying to understand what had caused her to react so strongly. What was her problem?

Oh God, I suddenly felt incredibly tired. The struggle with my body had exhausted me, and I began to close my eyes again. Why not allow myself a bit more rest before facing the harsh world once more? Why hadn’t I just died?

Loud noises from the hall jolted me awake. Or had I even been asleep? The sounds were like shoes pounding the floor. Who was in such a hurry?

My questions were soon answered as a doctor, two nurses, and the woman who had been sitting by the wall rushed into the room. The doctor immediately came to my side, checking my vitals and monitoring everything closely.

One of the nurses stood by with a firm expression, ready to assist the doctor. The other nurse held my hand gently, soothing me with her light touch as her thumb moved rhythmically over my skin. Her blue eyes, strikingly clear and comforting, looked into mine.

I found it difficult to turn away, though my curiosity remained fixed on the woman who had fled the room. I tried to see her, but she was obscured by the other nurse, who blocked the doorway.

“How are you feeling?” a deep, masculine voice asked.

I struggled to focus as I tried to look past the nurse blocking my view.

“Elena. How are you feeling?”

The mention of my name grabbed my attention. I looked up at the doctor, who was peering down at me with a concerned expression. The scene around me felt overwhelming—the strange woman, the nurses, and the doctor all looking at me with such worry. My legs twitched as I struggled to process what was happening. I continued searching for the woman, driven by an intense need to know who she was.

“Elena?” The doctor’s voice snapped me back to the present. I realized that if I didn’t try to respond, I wouldn’t get any answers. I looked him in the eyes again and opened my mouth, but no sound emerged. Come on, body! Work with me this time. I tried again, but only a faint, squeaky noise came out.

“Easy now. Don’t strain yourself,” he said, gently placing a hand on my shoulder and easing me back onto the bed.

I hadn’t even realized I had shifted my upper body from the bed and was leaning to the right. I followed his advice and settled back down.

“Everything seems to be okay here. She’s recovering quickly,” he told the two nurses, who nodded in agreement.

He smiled down at me and rested his hand on my shoulder once more before moving to the door to speak quietly with the woman I still couldn’t see because of the nurse blocking my view. Meanwhile, the two nurses continued to hover over me, checking my condition.

Of course, I was fine—or as fine as one could be after jumping off a cliff and nearly drowning. But suddenly, a crucial question occurred to me: How had I survived? I distinctly remembered sinking into the water. It wasn’t a dream. So, how did I make it back to the surface? Did someone save me?

Desperate for answers, I tried to speak again, “H-H-How…” That was all I could manage to say. The kind nurse with the striking blue eyes began stroking my arm and soothing me, trying to keep me calm and prevent me from straining myself. But I was growing frustrated with lying here, unable to get any answers. I needed to know what was happening.

“W-Where… a… am I?” The words finally emerged from my lips, causing everyone around me to step back in surprise. I knew it wasn’t the most important question, as I had already figured out that I was in a hospital. It was just the only thing I could manage to ask.

The kind nurse offered a reassuring smile and replied, “You’re safe now.”

Ha! I thought. I would never truly be safe—not from them. The doctor then gathered the nurses and gave me some space. As they left, the woman who had been standing further away finally came into full view. Her eyes locked onto mine, and I was startled by the intensity of her gray gaze. I recognized those eyes, but they were different now—once vibrant and strong, now filled with sadness and exhaustion. Her face, once youthful, now appeared aged and worn.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at me. I tried to signal for her to come closer, but it was too difficult. I managed to raise my hand slightly from the bed, and before I knew it, she was by my side, grasping my hand. She looked down at me with tears streaming down her face, yet she smiled as she gently brushed her hand over my head.

I felt so much better with her touch. God, how long had it been since I last saw her? And the way she looked—I thought I was in bad shape, but her condition was beyond words. It seemed as though she had been through hell and back, and then through it all over again.

The sight was almost beyond belief, yet I couldn’t help but smile. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I gazed up into those familiar gray eyes. I knew I wasn’t dreaming, and I certainly wasn’t dead. Not with her holding my hand and smiling at me, conveying with her eyes that everything would be alright. I felt like I had woken up from hell and found my heaven once more.

“Aunty?” I croaked.

Her smile widened, and her tears fell onto my cheeks as she leaned over me, mingling with mine. She nodded vigorously.