Chapter Three

Chevelle

“He just doesn’t understand. Even if this isn’t something that I want to do, it’s something that I would have to do. But it’s so much more than that.” The voice drifts off for a few more moments but I don’t want it to stop. It’s pulling at me, the deep timber of it. The way it picks up when the man gets excited, his passion lacing every word, flowing into the air around us. Or the way it grows soft when he’s sad. It calls to me, more than anything else has ever called it me.

“I don’t expect anyone to understand why this is something that is as much a part of me as breathing. Being a part of something so much more than myself, it’s my reason for living. Each time I spend with you or Violet, or Brody, Angelica, Mason, Hunter, and Jett. Each and every one of you puts a piece of me back together. Being a part of your recovery, however slight, helps to breathe life back into me. It’s what makes my mind race, allows my blood to flow, my tears to fall and my heart to love.” I can hear the conviction in his voice, the beating of my heart picks up just as the annoying beeping increases as well.

“Can you hear me?” He whispers. I think I can feel something against my knuckles, but I can’t be sure, everything feels tingly. The sensation reminds me of the black and white static that was always on the television set that I would sit and stare at when the channel would go out, imagining the pictures within.

Who is this person?

“River? What’s going on?” Voice Lora asks, the door squeaking, announcing her presence.

“I was just talking to her, you know, like normal. But then the monitor started picking up, beeping faster. I think she can hear me.” his voice softens in amazement. “Do you think...is it...could she...”

“I don’t know, River. I thought that she may be trying to respond last night, and then now you’re getting some kind of a reaction from her but there isn’t any significant proof. Can you try talking to her? See if anything happens?” She asks as the beeping grows quiet.

“Chevy? Can you hear me?” The man asks softly. He’s silent a few moments but then I hear him release a breath. “Chevy? Can you try to give me some kind of sign that you can hear me?”

I want to do what he asks. His voice draws me deeper in, my body begging to do what he is asking me to do.

I try to flex my fingers, but it feels weird. More static. I can’t be sure if it’s working, which irritates me. I try harder, again and again, still unsure of whether it’s working or not. The static feeling becomes more intense, but I can feel something else too, almost like a weight against the static.

“Lora...she’s...Yes! That’s it, Chevy. She’s responding! She’s responding!” I hear his deep laughter, and I wish more than anything that I could see the expression on his face.

The static feeling begins to ebb away, and the weighted feeling increases. My senses are on overload. It seems strange to be aware of everything around me as they all come to life at once.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. The sound of the clock on the wall.

The buzzing of a fly, dancing in the air somewhere nearby.

The heavy breaths of the person next to me.

The sound of someone leaving the room, but then returning moments later with 2 more sets of footsteps.

“Chevy. Can you try to do something else for me? Give me another sign?” the man, that Voice Lora called River, asks.

“Let me try.” Doctor voice says, butting in.

“Sir, she seems to be responding to River. Let’s see what she does.” I don’t hear a response, but I want to do what the man with the deep voice that keeps calling to me asks.

I try moving my fingers again. I can still feel the fuzzy, static feeling along with the weight, but the weight is beginning to overcome the static feeling. I’m more aware of what is happening; I can feel something against my fingers.

Next, I try moving my toes. But again, the static feeling is overwhelming. So, I can’t tell if it works. I don’t like not knowing what is going on, not being able to see the faces of the people that the voices belong to.

A new sensation begins to surface. My whole body begins to tingle and tighten.

“She’s cold.” Deep voiced River says, answering my silent question as to what the sensation means. Another weight lands across my body, from my toes to my neck. It’s warmth, along with the fuzzy, tingly, static.

My mind wanders from one thing to another.

*What’s going on?

Why am I here?

Am I Chevelle?

How come I can remember the ticking of a clock and the buzzing of a fly, but I can’t remember who I am?

And who is this River person?

River.

I wonder if I were to see him, if the man himself is as alluring as his voice is. I try to picture what he may look like, based on the deep timber of his voice.

I imagine that he’s tall, just over six feet. And he’s broad, but not bulky. He’s big enough that he could wrap his arms around me, making me feel completely safe and secure. I imagine his eyes are a dark brown, surrounded by a mass of thick, dark lashes. His hair is dark, falling wildly across a strong brow. His defined jaw is covered in a couple days of scruff, as though shaving is the very last thing on his mind. It’s sexy and adds to his appeal rather than detracting from it. He has straight, white teeth, but never had the need for braces; he was blessed with such perfection. And when he smiles, he lights up the room. His eyes transforming with delight. I don’t have to imagine the sound of his laugh; it’s a deep, rich laugh. The kind of sound that does things to a person, like causing weakness in the knees.

I want to know if the man attached to the voice is anywhere close to what my imagination has conjured up.

I try to open my eyes, it’s a struggle. I hear the beeping start to pick up, just as my heart beats harder against my chest.

*You can do this! Come on. *

Suddenly, a piercing brightness is intruding on the darkness but it’s too much, it hurts too badly.

“Did you see that? Doctor...” River asks, his voice becoming choked up.

“I saw that. Keep talking to her.” The Doctor voice urges.

“Chevy. It’s okay to open your eyes. We’re all here waiting to see what beautiful color they are. Can you open them for us?” he encourages but I’m too scared. The brightness is blinding, painful. “Maybe if we turned out the lights? It may be too bright...”

“Good idea.” Voice Lora agrees. I hear shuffling going away and then coming back a few moments later. “Okay, Chevelle. You can do this.”

“Come on, sweetheart. Let us see those beautiful eyes.” River murmurs.

Butterflies.

I have butterflies, I think as they take over my insides. The sound of his voice alone, the thought of setting sight on the face attached to such a drawing sound, it’s caused butterflies to take flight inside of me. What is this man doing to me?

Someone’s stroking my cheek, causing my eyes to flutter. I try once again to open them. This time, instead of being greeted by the blinding light, everything is in shades of gray, muted.

I blink a few times, trying to bring some moisture to my eyes. It’s like they’re too dry and they hurt.

Gosh do they hurt.

Everything hurts.

“Chevelle…” River gasps. A hand closes around my fingers, this time I feel it completely. No static feeling. No fuzziness. Just the feel of his skin against mine, the weight of his flesh holding my flesh. Then, I feel the softness of his lips pressed against my knuckles.

I slowly turn towards the sound, sudden movements too painful, and find myself staring straight into a pair of stormy gray eyes. They aren’t the color that I imagined. The color is so much more, even though they’re clouded with so much emotion, that moisture gathers in my own, and causes my breathing to falter. He is literally breathtaking.

“Chevelle. Do you know where you are?” The Doctor Voice asks.

I can’t seem to take my eyes away from Rivers as I give a slight shake of my head in response to his question. I find myself lost in his eyes; the torment in them is heartbreaking.

“I’m Doctor Kahn. You’re in the Hospital.”

“H-h...” I try but I can’t seem to get the words out. My throat hurts excruciatingly and is as dry as the Sahara, but I feel like answering is a big step that I really need to be able to take. “H-h-h...” I try again. A tear trails down my cheek as my frustration grows.

“Take it easy, Chevelle. Lora, can you get Chevelle a drink please?” Doctor Kahn asks, turning towards an older lady with graying hair and eyes the color of the ocean before a storm.

I can feel the excitement exuding from her every pore as she skips from the room, out into the hallway. A few short moments later, she returns with a mug displaying the name of the hospital filled to the brim with water and ice.

Nurse Lora holds the cup for me, bringing the straw to my lips, allowing me to take a pull from the straw. I wrap my fingers around the mug, digging my short nails into the plastic as the liquid burns its way down my throat. I begin to choke on the cool liquid, both my chest and throat locking up with the action.

“Easy, Chevelle. Just small sips until you get used to it.” The doctor advises. My throat is so dry, it feels hot and itchy. I imagine it’s like dropping water on an overheated frying pan. As soon as it makes contact, there would be a sizzling sound, followed by the water evaporating into steam.

I attempt a small pull this time, sipping the cool liquid into my mouth. It still burns as it slides down the back of my throat, but I manage to not choke this time.

“Wh..” my voice breaks, unable to get the word out. I clear my throat and try again. “Why...am... I…here?” The words come out slowly, but I can tell by the looks on everyone's faces that this is a big step.

When no one immediately answers, I ask again “What am I doing here?” Turning my attention from the doctor towards River, I watch as the change takes effect in River’s stormy gray eyes. They go from jubilant to something akin to fear, and it causes dread to form in the pit of my stomach.