There was a sound of a compressor, it sounded like air being pumped in and pulled out, and the light was blinding behind her eyes, she stirred and pain made the fragile body wither into itself. A rush of warmth filled her, and happily she was asleep again.

A few hours later, her eyes fluttered, and she gagged on the tube in her throat. The feeling of it was constricting, it burned. She moved her eyes, and tried to open them, everything was white and the light was brilliant. It was like a fog was clearing from her vision. The first thing she saw was a bag of blood, dripping. She choked again, almost retching on the thick plastic going from the mask around her mouth to her lungs. The steady shhhh of air being pushed into her lungs, and the constant beeping of monitors was enough to force her to take an unsteady look around. She attempted to look around, but her head was paralyzed by the machinery that had kept her alive through the night.

Dizzy slanted her eyes down, she could only see the cheap coarse sheets, and the unsoft blanket that surrounded her body. She knew it was her own body, but she couldn’t feel it. It was like watching a movie, but with a really close seat to the screen. What had happened? She couldn’t thankfully remember what had happened. She blinked, her eyes were heavy and again she was asleep.

She awoke again, but could barely open her eyes. There were people talking, they seemed far away but entirely too loud. The whispered tones were like sonic booms in her ears, she heard words like, “would have been better if…” and “poor thing…” Dizzy moved her lips to speak, and again gagged on the plastic tubing in her throat. A hand came to yank it out, it was pale white and the fingernails were caked with black dirt. Who’s hand was that? It was coming to help, to make the plastic leave. A pretty nurse came over and pushed the hand back away.

“Miss you can’t be doing that!” the pretty nurse tried to say softly, her voice deafening.

Dizzy’s eyes opened wide, and she looked at that lady, the hand was helping. She saw it again, out of the bottom of her peripheral vision. She didn’t like the look of that hand, it was ghostly and it was so close to her face.

The pretty nurse clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and pushed a button, and the heavy feeling in her eyes returned. The hand fell away, she couldn’t see it anymore, and the world blurred. Dizzy wanted to fight this, why was there something in her throat…

She awoke again, this time there was no plastic, and there was blessed silence. The lights were dimmed and she could move her tongue. The pink muscle moved from the cave of her mouth to lick at the dry, brittle skin of her lips. This time she could lift her head. She turned to the right, and there were bags of fluids by her head, and she could see her heart rate on the monitors. A flash came over her, what were these medicines, and would they hurt her precious baby? She lifted her head and looked down her body, the ghost hands were attached to her arms, but she couldn’t remember ever thinking of them. She lifted the sheet from her body and looked down. The familiar swell to her belly was gone, instead there was a large bandage, soaked and caked brown with her dried blood.

It was like a strobe light was going off inside her mind, the pictures flashed so fast she couldn’t comprehend them. The last thing she could remember, Lex and Jena were going to take her to her sister. They had been nice to her, it was odd. Lex had even smiled. Something must have happened. She remembered Jena touching her belly. Still pictures flashing through her mind. Jena touched the baby. It had been there. She had felt him move.

The pretty nurse was replaced by an older one, she was almost matronly. She walked into Dizzy’s room with soft soled shoes, that barely made a noise on the awful green tile. Dizzy lifted her eyes to the woman, and another flash slammed into her brain. She was on the ground, Jena was over her, telling her the baby would be fine, if she would just cooperate. Jena was a nurse. She had promised everything would be fine.

The older nurse walked over, and looked down at her small patient. The girls eyes were wild and they moved back and forth like they were trapped behind the lids, and on their own they would escape. She had heard the awful story of what had happened to the girl. Felt sorry for her a little, but in this town, nothing surprised her. She went about the business of checking the girl’s vitals, and looked at the bandage that covered her abdomen. She’d have to talk to the Doctor about changing her dressings. With one reassuring hand, she covered Dizzy’s smaller one, and gave it a squeeze.

“My baby?” the girl croaked. Those blue eyes were filling with tears.

The old nurse didn’t get paid enough to be the one to break the girls heart, she was due for retirement, and she and her husband had a great life in the country planned when they were both done with working. With a pitying smile, she squeezed the plunger on the morphine drip, “Everything is going to be fine sweetheart, just sleep.”

Dizzy only heard the first three words before the world swirled into black again. Her baby was fine, she slept. Luckily, she didn’t dream.