this is the first little bit of story i have for Tanya, I hope you enjoy.. it’s a work in progress and I want to know what you all think…
~Jaid
She saw her reflection for what seemed like the first time in eons. The fiery red hair that whipped in the cold New York wind. Eyes glittered like ice as the sun’s rays brushed her porcelain cheeks.
Many people walked by, pausing to catch a glimpse of the beauty. She ignored them all as she reached out to touch her cheek, then her lips.
Her gaze seemed to gloss over as she remembered. No longer was she the meek overweight woman. She touched her curling hair and let out a chilled breath. “It can not be possible.” She jumped as she heard her own voice. It sounded so foreign, so distant.
She thought she knew herself, but the woman that looked to her was a stranger. She turned away from the store’s window and began to walk with the flow of the foot traffic. Cars zoomed and rattled along the street and still the noise was maddening.
She paused at the corner and looked down at her pristinely dressed self. Black pumps that should have made a professional woman cry out in pain, snug black slacks that did not have one crease from sitting behind the desk, and a silk blouse with a perfect line despite the roundness of her form. She shook herself out of her daze and fell into the street not realizing that the oncoming traffic could not stop fast enough.
The squeal of tires, crushing metal and glass, she could hear it all, but it was the face she would remember. A face, so much like her own.
It was the eyes, the jade, the deep love and hate etched in their green depths. Then everything went black.People screamed and cried out in terror as sirens drew closer to the accident. Police on the scene asked many what had happened, but no one could truly say for sure. The red headed woman had just fallen from the curb, or had stepped out in front of the taxi. Paramedics tended to the fallen, run over woman with a swift care, making sure that a c-collar had been in place before any movement. Splints had been placed on her arms and legs, because all were broken, bent at extremely odd angles. Each paramedic looked to one another in horror as they worked on the woman. “She isn’t going to make it,” one said as they rolled her onto her side and placed her on a backboard.
“It is not our call to make. No one dies in the ambulance, she’ll at least make it to the hospital. Let the Doctors take care of her.” The lead paramedic radioed to the hospital as they all put her into the ambulance and then sped off toward the hospital. They could not even tell what she looked like anymore. Her face had been cut, her bones crushed.
The hospital staff worked quickly, placing her on the gurney as Doctors and nurses assessed and began to clean up the minor wounds just so they could see the major wounds. Once she was more recognizable, and her identification taken, they rushed her into surgery. Every part of the woman was x-rayed, scanned, and in essence frozen in that moment.
It was days later, 6 different doctors stood around her bed, waiting for a sign, any sign. Her vitals were strong, which surprised many of them. One doctor stood with a grim expression while others just stood in shock. None had really taken a moment to sleep, they wanted to know about this woman, this miracle.
A nurse shuffled in with her chart and softly murmured. “Her name is Tanya Parker. She has no family close enough. Her mother and father have signed the DNR papers. They don’t want her to suffer.” She looked to the woman that was wrapped in so many layers of cotton gauze and fiber glass casting that she looked like a stiff mummy. Pity shimmered in her eyes, the knowledge that none of her family wanted to come out and see how bad she really was. It made her think of her mother in the rest home, and her tears slid down her cheeks freely.
At least her mother and she loved one another. This poor woman named Tanya Parker had no one.
The six doctors conferred around the bed, each stating opinions, each realizing that one would need to be given the soul discretion of the matter. None of them wanted that responsibility.
They each took their time with the chart, writing their notations, medications, and talking over their hypothesis with each other doctor.
But one doctor stood watching Tanya closely. Eyes narrowed as he let his mind wander over all that had happened in the last three days.
“I think we should ease off the medicines and let her come out of the coma. Let’s see what she can tell us. if there is any brain damage.”
There were of course murmurs and groans from his companions and coworkers until the door opened and the Chief of Staff entered.
He cleared his throat and the doctors parted the waters, all of them leaving except the one that voiced his opinion.
“If we keep her on the medicines she is on now, we’ll have her toxic within a couple of days. I would rather see her motor skills and memory unscathed. All the tests have been positive. She does not have brain damage yet.
I want to keep it that way.” The young doctor barely took a breath as he regarded Tanya. Once finished, he cast a wary look to the Chief, holding his breath until his lungs burned.
The older doctor took the chart and began to review it, and examined the girl for himself before he turned his cold medically distanced eyes on the young neurologist, then they softened. The older doctor liked this man, knew he would go far, but he saw the naivety of the desire to cure all.
Are you sure this will work? If you take her off the pain medication, bring her out, she’ll be mad with the pain.” In his mind, he had only seen a few cases where taking all the medication away to bring them out of coma. Yet, he understood the young doctor’s concern.
The woman was only going to make it if they knew how well she could handle the pain. The therapy would be grueling, if she would ever wake again.
Tanya heard the strange voice, even in her drug induced sleep. They sounded so cold, slow, and empty. Where was she, why could she not move, and what had caused everything to be such a distant unattainable grasp. The three questions melded in her head while the clouds covered her comfortingly. She could hear the pulse and beat of her heart, could hear the drops of medicine fall into the iv pump, and could hear the machines that monitored her vitals.
She wanted to open her eyes, but the strain did nothing but cause the beeps to speed up for a moment until she slid deeper into the medicated sleep.
She tried to understand it all, to understand what she had seen before the accident, and the eyes that had looked at her as she cried out for help.
No one had heard her.
The street had become chaos around her, and she became the center of it all. She swore she could still smell the burning rubber of the tires as they ran over her fallen body. Surprisingly, it hadn’t hurt. The concrete hurt when she hit her head. It was the steady beat of the pulse on her temple that finally caused her to moan loudly. It was a hand that touched her cheek, so cold, yet kind that caused her to lift her eyes. The woman that had been there when the chaos had gone out of control. The green eyes and red hair flipping in the New York breeze, it was a calming serene sight.
“Calm yourself Aunt Tanya. You will find the path that is meant to be taken, in time. For now, let the doctor’s heal your body. Let them try their medications. In the end, you will make the choice, stay in this plane or come to the realm of the roses.”
Tanya took a deep breath and then gasped. The breath itself hurt, burned her lungs. Her face felt tight, wrapped in something that had no give in it. Her body, for that matter, was bound, held tightly in place. Her breathing was labored, many ribs were obviously broken, and she felt it with every breath.
Life has a way of changing
