Meant to Marry Me

Sleep was a welcome visitor as Bree rested her head back on the pillow, her eyes closed. The medicine was making her tired, so she decided to take a little rest while Trent was out calling her parents. He would be gone for a little while, so it only made sense that she should take the opportunity to get a little bit of sleep while he wasn't in the room anymore.

Reality and a dream state were starting to mingle. She thought she was back on the beach for a moment, Trent's hand in hers as they stared at the waves, the bright blue overhead as the birds called to one another. She recalled how light her heart had felt as they decided they were going to be together forever. It had been one of the very best moments of her life.

She thought she heard the door to the hospital room open, but she wasn't sure, and then she heard the pounding of the ocean surf and the birds squawking overhead, and the sun on her face seemed more real than anything having to do with aching fingers and skin grafts.

The sound of footsteps brought her eyes open for a second. She hoped it was Trent, back to sit with her, but she saw it was a nurse. The woman was next to her bed, maybe putting something into her IV. Bree's eyelids were so heavy, she didn't puzzle over it, though it did seem odd that the woman was dressed differently than the other nurses who had worked on her. While they had been wearing scrubs, their faces uncovered, this woman had an outfit on that looked more like a costume than something an actual nurse would wear, and she was wearing a surgical mask.

Too tired to worry about it, Bree turned her head and concentrated on the ocean again, hoping she'd soon be back on the beach with Trent.

A warmth radiated up her arm. Was that the medicine the nurse had put into her IV? She didn't remember the doctor saying anything about her needing more IV medicine. She wasn't even sure why she needed an IV anymore. The warmth morphed into a burning sensation, and as Bree began to register perhaps something wasn't right, she thought she heard the sharp whisper of "Take that, bitch."

Footsteps headed toward the door as Bree did her best to open her eyes, but something was definitely wrong now. Was that even a real nurse? She fought to get a glimpse of the woman, but the drowsiness and the burning inside of her arm were overwhelming. She couldn't get her eyes to cooperate at all. Fighting to open her mouth, she managed to say, "Trent!" but her cry might not have even be loud enough for him to hear if he was still in the room, which he wasn't. Bree was certainly in trouble now, and there was nothing she could do to help herself. Like the pull of the moon on the ocean's tides, she felt herself being dragged further and further away. Try as she might, she just couldn't fight the urge to fall asleep....