Karl
Coming to in the hospital was like reaching the surface after being lost in a pitch black ocean and finally figuring out which way was up. One moment you're surrounded by brackish nothingness, an unending infinity of cool shadows, and the next you're bursting through, and sucking in great big lungfuls of air.
My eyes fluttered open and tried to take in the surroundings, even through my stupor.
“Karl?” a voice asked. “You awake, babe?”
“I'll go let them know,” I heard another voice say.
“Drink . . .” I whispered, my throat harsh and dry, as I looked around.
Then, I saw her. Jassy. My north star, my guiding light. The woman I'd killed for, the woman I'd taken a bullet over. And I didn't regret it for one moment.
Not feeling anything didn't hurt, either. Pain meds in the hospital
