Rebirth

First Chapter

“We’re losing her!”

My heartbeat quickens and the rest of my body struggles to keep up. Shaking in place, I peer around the room in a panic. Dr. Skidwell stands over me. His face wrinkles, a trickle of sweat running down his forehead. Several nurses rush into the room. I take deep breaths, each like a hammer striking my chest. One nurse takes my hand as if that would help. Another shoves the scalpel and equipment to the doctor’s side. The machine attached to my body emits an earsplitting ring and my body descends into numbness.

“Hang on, Gaia!” The nurse lets go of me and places a device over my face, cupping my nose and mouth. I breathe in the chemicals as a calming sensation sweeps through. “Doctor, what should we do?”

“We have no choice but to operate,” says Dr. Skidwell, eyeing a nurse and pointing a shaking finger toward the door. “Get me the rest of the equipment.”

The nurse’s eyes widen. “Right now, sir? We don’t know if it—”

“I don’t have time for this, Jackie. Go!”

She nods and heads out of the room just as another nurse wheels in a large cart. What does he mean by “operate”? If my heart is failing, aren’t I dead either way? This is it. The end of my stupid teenage life. I wish Dad were here. I want to tell him I love him, that I didn’t want to leave him like this. Not after what happened to Mom.

The rush of footsteps and shouts begin to die out and my eyes become heavy. A part of me fights the anesthetic, wanting to hang on for just a bit longer. I’m too weak. It’s already running its course. My eyes shutting, I see Dr. Skidwell raising several gleaming medical instruments, one of them a scalpel. Sleep tugs at me. I try to squirm, fighting to get away, but my body lays still. I wish I could think good thoughts, yet only anger rises to the surface. It shouldn’t end like this. I’ll never get to go to college, eat pancakes at Sally’s, never realize I’m wasting my life on meaningless work. If only I just had a life to waste. I’m not good at dying, but it’s not like it makes a difference.

Goodbye, Dad.

Second Chapter

When I wake, everything is a bright blinding white.

A figure sits beside me, a man with chestnut skin leaning beside my bed. Dad? Face in his thick, callused hands, his tears wet the side of my bed. The news channel plays a documentary on Supers, a dying group of heroes and villains in Holiday City who possess unnatural abilities. I hover a shaking finger and press the off button. 

My breathing is heavy, chest tight. The thumping is so loud that someone standing outside the room might be able to hear my heart beating.

That means I have a heartbeat.

I’m alive. All the equipment is gone, no more IV connected to my arm. What is this? I raise my hand and there’s a speck of white contrasting with my dark skin, a tag wrapped around my wrist. A date from last year is inscribed on it along with the words, “Transplant Failure”. They only write that when someone…

“Gaia?” Dad looks up at me, color leaving his face. “Baby? 

How can it… is it really you?”

I want to say, “No kidding, genius”. Instead bite my tongue and give him a subtle not. Why? Because I’m surprised. Have I been in a coma all this time? I heard the doctor say my chances of survival were close to none. I wish there were some recording, some way to watch what happened after I went under.

Yet all that matters is I’m fine. Maybe just for another day. One, two, twenty, I don’t care as long as my heart's still beating. My head swirls and I lie back in bed. Dad’s crying harder now, wailing even. A group of nurses come to check on him. Several gasp when I shift in the bed and open my eyes, the rest flail their arms and begin to scream. Idiots. It’s a hospital, haven’t they seen a successful operation?

Amidst Dad’s tears, my pounding heart, and all the chaos around, thoughts rush into my head. I realize how bad I want to live. No need to be a superhero, I just want friends I can care about. To live my age and fun. I’m still seventeen for Christ’s sake, I don’t want to stay confined to this bed forever.

“It can’t be… Gaia?” Dr. Skidwell stands at the door. 

Speechless, he takes off his glasses to wipe his eyes, making sure he’s seeing things clearly. He shakes his head and the sternness in him returns. “It’s good to see your recovery coming along.” He reaches over me and removes the tag from my wrist, red creeping into his cheeks. “Sorry about the label, clerical error.”

I open my mouth and want to thank him, but an inhuman moaning noise comes out instead.

“No! Don’t try to speak, or do anything for that matter,” Dr. Skidwell grabs a pillow from the empty bed beside me and nudges it behind my head. “Just relax, and please try not to move for the next few days.”

Dad jumps out of his chair and his arms wrap around the doctor. “Thank you so much, Doc. What can I do? Anything. You name it and I’ll…”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” Dr. Skidwell gives him a gentle shove as he backs toward the door. Right before he exits, the side of his lips curl into a smile and he nods to the nurses watching from outside.

Dad spins to me and takes my hand. “Gaia, I need to go tell my boss I’ll need a day or two off. Can I get you anything before I go?” His eyes are bloodshot from the tears, but he grins wider than I’ve seen in years.

I force my arm up, joints aching, and a shaky finger points to my old lunch. If I have to suffer, it may as well be with a full stomach. Dad studies the contents of the tray. His forehead wrinkles, confused, but then he bursts into a deep, hoarse laughter.

“Pudding cups?” he asks, an eyebrow raised and grinning like a mathematician having solved a complex theorem.

Pudding. My lips curl up at the mention of the word, and I nod.