You know, it's weird. I'm finding writing as Lydia to be far easier than any other writing I've ever done. I find this both great, and completely terrifying. Maybe Lydia really is real and she's just using me as her medium to communicate. Scary.
Once again, a reminder that you can read it all at http://goddesscorrespondence.tumblr.com and submit questions for them if you so choose. Given the feedback from before, I'll skip on posting the questions for now and just stick with the main storyline.
Well, here we are again. I’m pleasantly surprised by the number of people who happened to be asking questions - I wonder if Lydia actually made you all take interest? Well, if so that just means she’s taking it seriously. Either way, it’s appreciated. Keep up the questions, and I’ll keep trying to nudge her along. It was kind of nervewracking there for a while. I thought it was going to be over that quickly…
Welcome back. Is that even the right thing to say? Probably not, since this is just a letter and not a TV show or something but who gives a fuck? Moving on. So this is the third one. I’m surprised I made it this far, I figured I’d get pissed off at everyone and give up. I’m also a little surprised that you all care. I’m pretty sure the story isn’t nearly as interesting as you might be expecting. Seriously though, some of these questions have been fucking dumb and you should be ashamed. But, that’s not important right now. You all are here for me to tell you about why I’m so fucking awesome, and I see no reason to hold that up any longer.
The next thing I remember, unsurprisingly, was waking up. My eyes flittered open, and I was staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. Shortly after that came the realization that something was sticking out of my arm, along with the sound of beeping. “Mmph… where am I?”
“Ah! You’re awake!” All of a sudden, Elana was leaning over me, looking down into my eyes and smiling. “Wasn’t sure you were coming back.” She said, laughing and running a hand through her red hair. Her green eyes twinkled a little, and for the briefest minute I almost drowned in them, feeling like I was getting pulled into the infinite abyss of the emerald pools before I blinked and shook my head a little. Holy cow I sound like I have a crush, creepy. “Let me go get the nurse.” She reached down and patted my hand before heading for the door, opening it up and stepping out to the hall.
Well, hospital then. That was one question answered at least. Sitting up in the bed, I looked down at the tube sticking out of my wrist, the saline solution dripping its way through. “Geez, was I really out of it that long? Paranoid much, sis?” Glancing over at the clock, I frowned. “Wait, midnight?” Looking out the window revealed the error in that theory. “Fuck, noon? I slept almost an entire day?”
“Almost two, actually.” That voice was way too deep to be Elana’s. Or female at all, really. Glancing over at the door, I saw a bronzed, rippling Adonis, shirtless, a cross between Conan and Fabio, beautifully chiseled and - Oh wait, no. That was just what you expected me to say, right? This was just some asshole.
Asshole was a taller man, probably close to six feet. His asshole hair was a dirty blonde, and he had a light scar on his left cheek that had faded, suggesting it was a rather old wound. Beyond that, he was, well, somewhat handsome I suppose, though I am loathe to admit it. Certainly not on the level of Conan or Fabio, let alone both. He was in decent shape, though he seemed to live the typical American lifestyle and was developing a bit of a belly. Not much, but still kind of a shame for someone in the medical industry. He was also fairly young, probably in the middle of his residency, or just finishing up.
“I’m glad to see you coming around.” He said, giving me a nod and gesturing over his shoulder. “Your sister went and let us know you were awake. She wasn’t leaving the room the last two days. You were in… well, I should just ask you some questions first.”
He pulled out a notepad, sitting down in the chair that Elana had been in. He frowned as he glanced over at Elana. “Could you step outside?”
For her part, Elana seemed rather hesitant at first. She looked over at me, but then finally she sighed, nodding and heading out of the room again.
“Right, now then.” He clicked his pen, tapping it against the side a few times. “My name is Dr. Wallowitz. So, Lydia - do you like that name? - anyway. Can you tell me about what happened?”
“Yeah, Lydia’s fine. Well, I passed out, what do you think happened?”
“Yes, obviously. But what happened before then?”
“Well, I had a headache. Killer one. Probably the worst one of my life.”
“Hmm…” He paused, scratching down a few notes. “Well, did you have anything else? Did you feel stiff? Pain anywhere else?”
“Not really. Just the fucking headache. Seriously, it was like a knife in my skull.” I winced a bit just from the memory.
“Do you have a history of seizures?”
“Diabetes? Anything else I should know about?”
“I had stitches when I was like 5? Look, doc. I’m fine, okay? I never get sick. Even that headache was weird, maybe it wasn’t even that bad, but I never get them so it hurt like hell. I’m sure I’m fine, okay?”
“Right. Okay.” He let out a sigh, shaking his head. “Well, I’m going to send you off for a CT scan and some bloodwork. Just as a precaution, but I want to see if we can figure out what’s going on inside your head that might have caused you to pass out.”
“Look, I said I’m fine. I feel great now. It was just a headache. How about I just go home instead?” I moved to get up, climbing out of bed.
My feet had just hit the ground when he put a hand on my shoulder, shaking his head again. “I’m sorry, but you can’t. Just a headache wouldn’t have made you pass out like that. We’ll just give you a couple of quick tests and you should be able to go home tomorrow, okay?”
Great. “Tomorrow”. Just what I wanted to hear. “Tomorrow” can just as quickly become “the day after” or “next week”. But it wasn’t like I really had a choice in the matter. “Fine.” I sighed, sitting back down on the bed. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Great. I’ll call for the nurse and we’ll get you taken care of.” He stood up and walked off quickly, and a few seconds later Elana came back in.
“Welcome back, sis. What fun have you been up to while I was out?”
“I got my History of Religion essay finished and worked on my paper on Faulkner.”
“Right, and what were you going to do with a Literary Studies degree again? Be a barista? Thought so.”
“Hey, at least I’m doing something with my life, unlike you.” She hmphed, and I couldn’t help but smirk a little. It was fun to push her buttons, even if she was right. Maybe I could use this to turn my life around. People did shit like that all the time, right? Take a near-death scare and use it to transform themselves and be a new person. Not that I thought I was near-death, but everyone else seemed freaked out, so close enough.
My musings were interrupted as the nurse came in. She was an older woman, maybe late 40s or early 50s, her dark brown hair starting to show some grey and her face showing some age lines. She seemed friendly enough as she spoke. “Hello, girls. Glad to see you up. Are you ready to go?”
“Well not re-” I started, but it seemed the question was rhetorical, as she started to push my bed out into the hall. Elana followed behind at first, but another nurse stopped her as they pushed me into the testing room.
“Alright, miss, just lay down on there if you could, please.” The young female tech pointed at the slab before turning to talk to the nurse. Not that I was trying to listen in on them, but it’s hard not to be a little curious as people are talking about you, after all. I don’t remember a lot of it, but I definitely remember the word “tumor” getting mentioned by the nurse, trying and failing to be somewhat discreet about it.
Fanfuckingtastic. A tumor. Just great. I was barely old enough to drink and I was probably dying. Somehow, the thought didn’t terrify me as much as it probably should have. Sure, I wasn’t excited or anything, but I wasn’t freaking out about it either. Mostly I was just frustrated. Just my luck, right?
The tech walked around to start the machine as the nurse left the room. For my part, I was just cursing smart phones for being so addictive and sending their horrible radiation into my skull. As the bed started to retract, it was hard not to think of it as a coffin. Dark, cramped, and creepy as all hell.
“Alright, hold still please.”
The machine started to whir to life, snapping me out of my dread. Only to be replaced by a new one. “Ow, fuck!” My head was starting to pound again. I winced and moved to grab at it, but in the cramped space I smacked my arms against the side of the tube instead.
“I said hold still.” The tech repeated, sounding a bit annoyed.
“Nggh… my head…” I groaned, wincing as the throbbing increased. This was a lot faster than it had been last time. I tried to stay still, but the pounding continued, until the jackhammer from before decided to bring its friend along for some fun. “AAAH!” I clenched my eyes shut to try to ignore it, and at least get through the procedure.
Shit. They were right. I had a tumor or something, and this was it. As badly as this hurt, I was pretty convinced that this was the end. I was going to die here in this machine. That coffin thing had been pretty accurate after all. “Turn the fucking machine off!”
Meanwhile, the machine kept getting louder, whining and making all sorts of unhealthy-sounding noises. It was hard to hear anything else before the radio clicked on, the tech’s voice coming through. “Alright, turning it off.” She seemed rather unnerved by the whole thing, her voice a bit shaky.
I barely had time to wonder how bad it must be to freak out the tech before it got even worse. The whining increased in intensity, until it was all I could hear. Between that and the blinding headache I had, I could barely function at all. I pounded on the walls and ceiling, screaming… well, I’m not sure what I was screaming, probably some variation on “let me out”, but I couldn’t hear myself at all. I’m not ashamed to admit I was terrified.
And then it stopped. There was a bang, one I managed to hear over the howling of the machine, but then the howling stopped.There was just a hiss, and the scent of smoke. My ears were ringing, and I couldn’t see a thing, but somehow I was alive.
I had some time to count my blessings, limited as they may be, before the radio clicked on again. “We’re having some technical difficulties. The machine isn’t responding, and I can’t extract the bed. I called for some technicians, but it will probably be a little while before they can let you out, alright? I’m sorry. Everything will be okay, I promise.” Her voice was even shakier than before. Not that I could blame her.
Fantastic. I’m stuck in a high-tech death machine and I can’t see anything and I have a headache the size of the goddamn moon. What else could go wrong?