That night I lay on my thin mattress with my hands folded over my chest like a corpse. Breathing. Waiting. Trying not to feel anything at all.
I didn’t belong here. Not in this hospital, not in this time.
“I’m not tired!” Andy shouted from somewhere down the hall. “You can’t make me sleep! I have rights!”
I closed my eyes. Breathed more. Waited longer. Counted the slow beats of my heart. And finally, when I was on the edge of sleep, it happened. I saw myself standing at the lip of a great precipice. Below me was a swirling, cloudy blackness, and I knew that if I could get through it, I’d be on the other side. Back in the world full of people I had to save. Back to where I was supposed to be.
My breathing became shallow and my eyelids fluttered like I was already dreaming. Tingling waves passed over and through me. It felt like my cells were vibrating. Shimmering.
I almost laughed, because it was working. I’d made it happen. I could feel myself start to dissolve. And then—