Page 10 of Victorious Vice

“Raven…”

I grip the phone tighter. “Who’s there?”

Again, the soft whisper.

“Raven…”

It sounds familiar, somewhere deep within my memory, a voice long forgotten. A female voice, shrouded in the mists of time and pain.

“Who are you?” I demand, trying to find strength in my voice.

The room feels colder, more hostile.

The silence stretches on, leaving me hanging by a thread. My heart pounds like a drum, each beat echoing the ticking clock on the wall above me.

Finally, the voice speaks again. “Remember…”

Then nothing.

Only silence.

I keep the phone pressed against my ear for what feels like forever, straining to catch any other whisper that might come through. But it’s useless.

All I hear is the silence and my own labored breathing.

Remember…

The word echoes in my head like a silent scream. Remember what? What does the voice want from me? My mind races through several possibilities, but nothing seems to fit. The past is a muddle of fragmented memories, treatment sessions, and painful goodbyes. Sifting through it feels like walking through a maze with no exit in sight.

My head throbs as if my brain is trying to physically push out the memories lodged deep within me. I wince, pressing my free hand to my forehead as if that may somehow alleviate the pain.

Flashes of faces flicker before my eyes—my parents, my siblings, friends, doctors, Vinnie—but none of them match up with the voice on the phone. I squint at each image, trying to force a connection, a semblance of recognition, but I come up empty each time.

The room darkens around me, shadows creeping over the stark hospital walls as night falls. The cold seeps in deeper.

I’m alone.

Utterly alone.

I open my mouth to call for a nurse…

But my voice. It’s gone.

The machines make no more sound.

I look around the sterile room.

Everything is in black and white.

I’m not here.

I’m not here.

I’m not here…

I jolt upward in bed,the dream still fresh in my mind.

My heart is pounding like it wants to escape my chest, each beat a thunderous echo in the still darkness of the room. Beads of cold sweat trickle down my forehead and drop onto the sheets. I am alone, and for a moment, I struggle to remember where I am.

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