In Your Head

An excerpt from my book, "Red" a twist on the classic tale of Little Red Riding Hood.

I heard a beeping first. A steady, electronic beeping. I tried to ignore it at first, but it was too insistent, too loud.
“Elise?” A worried voice asked. Grams.
“Gram?” I mumbled, “Where am I?”
“The hospital.”
My eyes flashed open. Sure enough, the sterile white walls of a hospital surrounded me. Of course. I should have remembered the sounds of the machines. I’d memorized those years ago.

Grams was sitting in a metal chair, pulled up close to the bed. Her fragile shoulders slumped forward. She had her hands curled around one of mine, rubbing her thumb over the vein in my wrist. It was comforting, lulling.

“What happened?” I asked her, “How did I get here?”

Grams sighed. “The officer said he found you in an alley.” She shook her head, “He said you’d been cut up pretty bad and were unconscious.” She gestured to my arm. A white bandage graced my right forearm, from wrist to elbow. It was chunky and thick. I moved my arm delicately, wincing at the twinge of pain that shot up into my shoulder. “I would have ran here if Cole hadn’t been around.”

“Cole’s here?” I slumped back against the crisp pillows. “Why was Cole at the house?”

“We were waiting for you.” Grams said with a sigh. She brushed a hand over her face.
In that moment, it became apparent to me how old Grams was. Not just in years, though she was turning sixty seven this year, but in her demeanour. In her…being. Her face, usually calm and serene was tense and drawn. Her normally shining eyes were dulled. And there was pain. So much pain etched into that face. Not like when she was sick. It was the pain I’d seen when I had woken in a different hospital, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

“It was the wolf.” I said quietly.

Grams adjusted the glasses on her nose. “What was?”

I lifted my arm gingerly. “This. It attacked me. It followed me home.”

Grams was silent for a few minutes. It felt like forever. “Elise,” She said, “I’m worried.”

“About what?” I asked when she went silent again.

“About you.” Grams gave a humorless laugh. “In the past few weeks you’ve gotten into this place in your mind that….that I can’t follow you into. And from here I don’t know how to help you.”

“Are you saying that it’s all in my head?” I slipped my hand out from under hers. “Are you saying that I’m delusional? That the wolf isn’t real?”

There was a heavy silence.

“How can you sit there and tell me that the wolf isn’t real? Have you not been paying attention for the past thirteen years? It’s real. And it’s angry. It’s been hunting us for fourteen years. It kills people. How can that not be real?”

Grams reached out to me, but I dodged her hands, “Elise, those were coincidences. A random act of chaos that coincided with your blackouts. They aren’t connected.”

I raised my bandaged arm, “And this? I suppose this is just a random act of chaos, as well?”

“Elise, you’re in a very…fragile place right now, and �"“

“You think I did it to myself.” I understood with sickening realization. “You think I’ve been doing to myself this whole time. And the murders that the wolf does �" do you think I did those too?”

“No! Elise, please. I just meant that you’re in a delicate place this time of year and your mind can play tricks on you. That’s all.”

I felt my heart stutter in my chest. No. Please, no. Not Grams. Not the one person that I’m supposed to be able to count on, above even Cole. I searched her face for a sign that this was a joke, that maybe she wasn’t as sure as she sounded. That she believed me. But there wasn’t one. She didn’t believe. Not in me, not in the wolf.
“I think you should go.” I said through numb lips.

She reached for me and this time I didn’t pull away. I sat still as stone, as she tried to rub warmth into my chilled skin. “Elise. Sweetheart �"“

“Are you going to leave or should I call a nurse to remove you?”

Her hand stopped rubbing my good arm, and was pulled back into her own lap. She stared at her hands for a moment before nodding and getting slowly to her feet. She made her way to the door.

I slumped back against the scratchy hospital pillows. “Even if it was just all in my head, that doesn’t make it any less real.”

I didn’t let the tears fall until the door had shut behind her. They trickled down from the corners of my eyes, a steady stream.
How could she say those things? How could she not believe me? I hadn’t spent the last fourteen years running from smoke. I hadn’t spent all this time fearing for nothing. The deaths were not coincidences.

I am not crazy.