The Evil Within

Memories

Chapter nine

"Hey, are you okay?" The man asks me and I look up at him, the sunlight blinding me.

"Um," I say, trying to get a grip on this unfamiliar language. "Yeah, just a little overwhelmed."

He looks at this body, seeing as I'm in a gown with a blue and white pattern covering it.

"You just came from the hospital, right?"

"Hospital?" I question and he points to the large building I just escaped from. I turn around and see elderly humans on canes being helped by other younger humans, I see a big red and white vehicle with flashing lights on the top stop abruptly. They bring a human laid down on a mat they transport into the building, there's lots of blood, I feel a strange sickening and food excrements flow out of my mouth. I bend my face to the ground and the man rushes to my side, he holds my hair back and the rest come spilling out of my mouth.

Once there's no more coming out, he falls to his knees and pushes the hair out of my face. I wipe my mouth with a tissue and look into his eyes, an unfamiliar feeling envelopes me and I can't seem to tear myself from his deep blue eyes. He coughs and looks around, I keep staring at him and he helps me straighten. I feel lightheaded and everything fades to black.

I awaken in a bed, I look down at myself and I'm wearing a large and oversized t-shirt. The logo on it is something about The Beatles band. I look around, hearing noises from another room. I look around the room, outside the window is the moonlight and I crawl out from under the covers. The ground is cold beneath my feet and I make my way out of the closed bedroom door, the man from before is sitting at a counter, typing on a device humans called laptops.

Once he sees me, he gets up from his seat and walks to my side.

"Hey," He says and I smile.

"Hey," I reply, the language becoming natural to me somehow.

"How are you feeling?" He asks and I nod.

"I'm okay, how long was I unconscious?"

"A few hours, you really must have gone through something."

"Transferring into a human body is what I went through."

He chuckles. "How hard did you hit your head?"

I don't even hear his question because of the pounding in my head. I rub my temples and he grabs a little cylinder and clicks it. He moves his fingers close to my eyes and I flinch away.

"Whoa, relax. It's just a flashlight, see." He clicks the button on the end of it and he flashes the light onto the wall, my nerves die down a little as I assess that the device isn't a threat. His fingers move towards my eyelids again and this time I don't flinch, he shines the light into my eyes and I close my eyes. Not used to the brightness shone into my eyes.

"Sorry," He says, concern written on his face. I accept his apology. He shines the light in my eyes again and I focus on something else in the room, somehow it makes it easier to withstand the light. There's a painting hung beside a large container that's always cold that I've seen humans store food in. The painting consists of flowers in a meadow, one of the many talents of humans I've actually admired. Other than their recklessness and obliviousness, humans are much like us when it comes to choices. Lucifer decided to plan an uprising against our father, I wish he could've chosen another path but we all bury ourselves in holes and sometimes we can't seem to crawl our way out of. Sometimes we see no other choice.

"It looks like you might have a concussion." He says, bringing my focus back to the light and he clicks the flashlight and it turns off.

"Concussion?" I ask and he nods.

"I'm a med student and it looks like that's what you have, I've been studying since college about it and the symptoms you have proves my theory."

He must have seen my distraction of looking at the painting just now and he looks at it too.

"My ex-girlfriend was an artist. She loved painting anything she could see, in this painting she came across a meadow with all these amazing tulips and had to capture it. I offered just taking a picture of it but she said she had to paint it, she wanted to preserve the image of the flowers and she said a photo doesn't do justice the beauty that the meadow portrays."

I'm fascinated by his story and he clears his throat.

"I'll get you an ice pack," He says and I nod, tearing myself away from the interesting mood of the painting. He opens the cold container at the top, I'm surprised it opens at the top too and he grabs a bag covered in ice. He graps a little cloth wrapped around a handle for what humans call an oven and swaddles the frozen bag. He hands it to me and I grab it, it's cold and I drop it. He laughs again and holds it to my head, the pounding in my head subsides and I grab the pack from him.

He sit on a large cushioned thing with lots of seats, sitting into it. I'm a little startled and he joins me on it.

"What is this?" I ask him, gesturing to where I'm sitting.

"The couch?" He asks suspiciously and I realize I sound a bit too much like an alien.

"Sorry, hitting my head must have knocked some foolishness into me too."

He snickers. "No, it's all right. What happened to you, if you don't mind me asking."

"I don't mind," I reply. "I woke up in this room with these strange humans and-" Suddenly, I realize I can't remember heaven. I can't seem to recollect anything prior to coming into this body.

He looks at me with interest and I sigh.

"I don't really remember anything before that."

After I say that, a montage of a car crashing into a semi-truck hits me and I'm thrashed every which way. The girl from the hospital who called me Alex is screaming, other humans in the back of the car are screaming too and the car I'm in flips over and over. Tumbling down into a ravine and anything that happened afterwards is blank.

I huff a breathe and he's right beside me, hold my arm in comfort.

"What just happened?" I ask and his eyes shine with distressed concern.

"I don't know, you zoned out and were stiff as a board. I got worried and sat next to you."

"Did you see something?"

I nod. "Yeah, she was in a severe car crash. She died on impact."

"Who's she?" He asks and I can't seem to catch my breathe.

"Her." I motion towards my body and a look of bewilderment is plastered across his face.

"Why do you talk about yourself in the third person? Who are you?"