I woke up again, and this time around, the stinging sensation in my eyes and lips had subsided.
Eager to be up and moving, I attempted to open my eyes upon regaining consciousness.
I peeked at first, cautiously surveying the empty room, and then fully opened my eyes.
The room remained quiet, just as it had been before. However, there was one notable change-the intravenous drip had been replaced by a bowl emitting a fragrant incense-like aroma.
Intrigued by the pleasant scent, I refrained from inspecting it too closely, assuming it must have contributed to my improved health.
Curiosity compelled me to turn my neck in the opposite direction, gazing toward the left side of the room.
Surprisingly, the pain was less pronounced, encouraging me to turn fully and examine the previously unobserved area.
It appeared to be a working room of a pack doctor, adorned with herbs, shrubs, and traditional paraphernalia.
Despite the unfamiliar surroundings, I found myself unafraid. The reason for my lack of fear was clear-I was no longer in my own pack, a fact that brought a profound sense of relief.
Feeling a growing sense of hunger, I contemplated whether I had been fed while I was unconscious.
My mind wandered back to the green substances I had consumed through the drip. Perhaps those substances had served as nourishment.
Lost in thought, I cocked my head to the side, pondering the possibility.
Encouraged by my improving condition, I decided to attempt sitting up.
Although it felt slightly uncomfortable, I believed I could manage.
As I prepared to lift myself, a little girl entered the room, holding a covered pot in her hands.
Her face registered shock upon seeing me, and she seemed unsettled as she shook her head, dropping the pot to the floor. Without uttering a word, she hastily fled from the room.
I couldn’t help but feel a slight disappointment at her silent exit. In books, I had imagined someone shouting, “The patient is up!”
Oh well, I missed books and their tales. They were like a universal language, akin to music and food.
Resolving to explore my freedom further, I shifted my attention to my hands, retrieving them from beneath the blanket. To my relief, they appeared undamaged and fully functional.
Encouraged, I tested my legs, finding them in good shape as well. The question remained-could I stand without losing my balance?
Caught in this dilemma, I was taken aback when the little girl suddenly reappeared, accompanied by a man and a woman.
My hand was already on the bed’s edge, poised to make my first attempt at standing, while my left leg was ready to touch the ground.
The man, noticing my eagerness, spoke with a genuine smile on his lips, reminding me of Naomi’s father, despite their physical differences.
“You seem so eager to walk. I’ll take that as good news. But I believe you shouldn’t tempt fate either. You’ve already outrun it enough,” The unfamiliar man remarked, his words perplexing to me.
Nonetheless, I nodded obediently, retracted my leg and settled my back against the headboard. Although I didn’t know who these people were, it was clear that they had saved my life.
“Good,” The man enthused before sitting on the bed, in a spot where my legs were not in the way.
Curiosity overcame me, and I croaked, surprised by the rough texture and coarseness of my voice.
Concerned, I wondered if something had happened to my vocal cords during my prolonged unconsciousness. It seemed like the man understood my unspoken question, as he promptly provided an explanation.
“Do not worry about your voice. It’s likely because you haven’t spoken in a long while. It will improve with time, I believe,” he reassured me, offering some solace.
However, I persisted with my original inquiry.
“How long have I been asleep?” I managed to ask, still taken aback by the sound of my own voice.
“Three months, two weeks, and five days,” The little girl chimed in, instantly capturing my attention.
She possessed dark brown eyes and flowing midnight black hair, appearing no older than seven.
Yet, it was evident that she possessed a knack for keeping track of time. Half-jokingly, I anticipated her to provide the precise number of hours as well.
“16 hours,” The girl chimed in immediately, causing me to gasp in surprise. How did she know that?!
Her father laughed boisterously.
It has been a while since I heard such laughter. It reminded me of Naomi and my mother. I wondered how my mother was doing and if she missed me.
“Don’t mind Diana. She can be a handful,” The woman said, affectionately rubbing the little girl’s head.
Diana bore a striking resemblance to her mother, except for her eyes, which lacked the dark green hue her mother possessed.
I shook my head, indicating that it was nothing, appreciating Diana’s diligence in monitoring my well-being.
Three months had passed since I last had a conscious awareness. No wonder my voice sounded cracked.
The fog of confusion descended upon me just then, though not as heavily as before. I fought against it, unwilling to succumb, but my efforts only resulted in splitting headaches.
“Lie down. You need more rest. Hopefully, you’ll feel better the next time you wake up, young one,” The man advised, rising from his position and walking the short distance toward me.
With his assistance, I settled back onto the bed, while his wife and daughter observed.
“But I have questions…” I managed to utter, frustrated with my vulnerable state to the encroaching fog. There were so many unanswered queries weighing on my mind. How had these strangers saved my life? What had happened to me?
“And you will get answers to them. But for now, sleep. We’ll talk when you wake again. I promise,” He reassured me, and something in his sincere tone made me believe him, despite my previous reluctance to trust.
After all, I had no other choice but to place my trust in their care.
With that assurance, my weariness overpowered me, and I allowed myself to succumb to the embrace of sleep, hoping that when I next opened my eyes, clarity and understanding would be waiting for me.