There’ll be at least one more fiction piece posted before the month is over – then you guys will be free of this, I promise!
Hanna’s fingers trembled as she tried to close them around the thick shard of glass. It was slick with her own blood, and her fingers ached with even the slightest movement. Her whole hand was shaking now, and sweat beaded on her forehead.
He wouldn’t stay down long.
Heart hammering, Hanna rested her hand for a moment. Her body was a giant deadweight, and she wished that she could move something more – a toe, even.
But her legs lay pale and puny against the white sheets. The neck brace kept her from turning her head freely. All she had to save her life were her shaking hands.
From down on the floor, Auden stirred. An ugly bruise marred his temple.
She’d been ready for him when he came in, saved up all her strength to fling the paper weight with the scorpion in it at his head.
Now, she was out of juice.
Forcing her aching muscles to move, she reached for the bloodied piece of glass once more. Her fingers fought to grip the slippery surface.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay down,” Hanna said. Her voice quivered, and the threat didn’t carry much weight. And still, her fingers fumbled with the glass, the sharp edges slicing through her skin and adding more blood to the pool swiftly gathering on the nightstand.
“It’s for your own good.” Auden’s voice was a hoarse whisper.
“That’s not your decision.”
“I’m your guardian.” Despair rang in his tone. “This isn’t a life. You can’t move, Hanna. And the doctors say you never will. Ever.”
She’d heard the doctors talking. She wasn’t stupid. The accident that landed her here had been brutal. But this was still her life, and she would decide when it was over.
As if his words had tapped some reservoir of strength, Auden stood.
Hanna’s fingers closed around the piece of glass. “Auden, please don’t make me do this to you.”
He looked at her, his gray eyes shiny. “I’m not going to let this happen. Not to you.”
How was he going to do it? She knew he’d been thinking about it. A pillow? Too long. Too painful. He had a gun, but that would be too loud. The neighbors might hear.
From his pocket, Auden pulled a small syringe.
Hanna clutched the piece of broken glass. She had come too far to let this happen. The glass cut into her hand, the sharp pain a reminder of all that she had been through just for this – to be able to hold something in her hand.
Nobody, not even Auden, was going to take that away.