I knew I was alive, because if I was dead, my head wouldn’t hurt so damn much. As more conciousness trickled into me, I recognized the feel of my bed. It’s funny, the priorities your brain has when reboots; my next thought was how pleasant it was to be holding my stuffed animals. This was shortly followed by “ow”, “why is my face so wet”, “what the hell happened”, and “oh, yeah, I have eyes I can open.” I took a second, maybe two, to let my brain finish booting up. Oh, right, I’m alive, which almost certainly means…
I cracked open my eyes, and the visage of Sir Terrance, leaning over me with a an extremely concerned look on his face, swam into view.
“I thought you were heading out to grab lunch…”
“I was, my liege, but something in how you bid me farewell did not sit right with me. It was ten minutes before the creeping unease convinced me of the need to return, posthaste.”
“I thought I’d done a good job of hiding it all…”
“You did, my liege! However, one does not spend time at court without gaining a modicum of skill at seeing deeper into other’s intentions. I think you should talk about it, my liege. If not with me, with someone.”
I looked around my room. My gaze locked upon the bag, torn open, with duct tape still clinging to the open edge, while my thoughts raced out of control. My freshly restarted brain revved to maximum, churning through the same thought loops it’s been going through for years at blinding speed. It’s out of control and so, so, tiring.
“You’ve saved my life, right? You’re no longer in my service. Thank you, Sir Terrance, but you may go.”
It’s half dismissal, half query, and entirely loaded with more emotions than I can describe. Terry’s a dear friend by this point, but he’ll just be hurt by staying close to me. It’s what’s best for us both.
He sat on the bed with a frown on his face, and stroked his moustache for what seemed like years, but couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds. A very long thirty seconds.
“No, my liege, I do not think so. You are very much still in danger I believe, and I would be remiss if I were not to complete your rescue.”
I closed my eyes, and hugged my stuffed animals tighter. “So where do we go from here?”
“I think I shall help you in finding a therapist and a psychiatrist, my liege.”
I never could have forseen how learning the heimlich would have changed my life.
I knew I was alive, because if I was dead, my head wouldn’t hurt so damn much. As more conciousness trickled into me, I recognized the feel of my bed. It’s funny, the priorities your brain has when reboots; my next thought was how pleasant it was to be holding my stuffed animals. This was shortly followed by “ow”, “why is my face so wet”, “what the hell happened”, and “oh, yeah, I have eyes I can open.” I took a second, maybe two, to let my brain finish booting up. Oh, right, I’m alive, which almost certainly means…
I cracked open my eyes, and the visage of Sir Terrance, leaning over me with a an extremely concerned look on his face, swam into view.
“I thought you were heading out to grab lunch…”
“I was, my liege, but something in how you bid me farewell did not sit right with me. It was ten minutes before the creeping unease convinced me of the need to return, posthaste.”
“I thought I’d done a good job of hiding it all…”
“You did, my liege! However, one does not spend time at court without gaining a modicum of skill at seeing deeper into other’s intentions. I think you should talk about it, my liege. If not with me, with someone.”
I looked around my room. My gaze locked upon the bag, torn open, with duct tape still clinging to the open edge, while my thoughts raced out of control. My freshly restarted brain revved to maximum, churning through the same thought loops it’s been going through for years at blinding speed. It’s out of control and so, so, tiring.
“You’ve saved my life, right? You’re no longer in my service. Thank you, Sir Terrance, but you may go.”
It’s half dismissal, half query, and entirely loaded with more emotions than I can describe. Terry’s a dear friend by this point, but he’ll just be hurt by staying close to me. It’s what’s best for us both.
He sat on the bed with a frown on his face, and stroked his moustache for what seemed like years, but couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds. A very long thirty seconds.
“No, my liege, I do not think so. You are very much still in danger I believe, and I would be remiss if I were not to complete your rescue.”
I closed my eyes, and hugged my stuffed animals tighter. “So where do we go from here?”
“I think I shall help you in finding a therapist and a psychiatrist, my liege.”
I never could have forseen how learning the heimlich would have changed my life.
oh wow I really like this response. you’re pretty good at writing
Thanks! I don’t write a lot but I read a lot. Good prompt!