Page 132 of The Souls We Claim

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Just a single limb. A digit.

Why does everything suddenly feel overwhelming? I’m choking silently. I focus on the finger.

It lifts from the bed. Just an inch.

Then it falls back to the sheet.

Why is my throat on fire?

I raise my finger again.

Tap.

Tap.

I’m choking. Drowning.

I ache to reach for my throat.

Tap.

Tap.

“Switch. Fuck. Switch! I’ll get a nurse. Wait… Help, my friend…”

The words fade. I don’t hear the rest.

Tap.

Tap.

I focus on my eyes. A millimeter open. The light is too bright.

Noises flood in. Beeping monitors. Then something swishing.

Tap.

Tap.

I open my eyes wider and see an ugly fluorescent light above me.

I can move my arm. First at the wrist, then the elbow. It’s slow.

Jerky.

What the fuck?

My heart races; equipment beeps.

There’s a flurry of activity around my bed. Excitement. I can feel it.

“Switch. You’re back, motherfucker,” the man says. He squeezes my hand hard. Phone to his ear. “King,” he says. “Switch is awake.”

I steal my hand back and reach for my throat.

“Theo? Can you hear me, Theo?” It’s an older woman in a white coat. “I need you to stop fighting while we remove your intubation.”

The man takes my hand. “Here, hold on to me. Will this hurt him?”

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