I'm not Jane.

a lightning bolt of awareness ruthlessly slices into the roaring darkness giving a glimpse of a whoosh and sigh and a measured rise and fall --- ---

--- dark silence returns ---

a startling jangle of beeps and clicks cuts through the blind silence. --- ---

--- silent blackness takes over---

like a fetus in the womb, learning to tell light from dark. awareness in darkness feels as if buried alive. grateful for the light. --- --+

--- nothingness ---

where is here? ---

 --- silence is nothing---

where is here? ---

---darkness returns---

what happened? ---- think! ---

--- the blinding darkness pulls me under again ---

snatches of awareness; learning the differences between the ones who come and go. the one wearing a heavy cologne that fails to cover their recent cigarette. the one snapping their bubble gum. they don’t spend much time here, though their scent lingers. --- ---

--- sinking into oblivion ---

--- driving --- don’t know where --- upset, scared? --- day into night --- headlights --- ---

---dark grey silence ---

the bubble gum has come and gone. is it morning? will you come today? you who smells of soap and mint. whose touch is gentle. whose voice is clear as you tell me what you’re going to do. the one who brings music.

I’m grateful for you. ---

--- darkness takes over ---

you brought Charlie Parker.

“Good morning. Jane, Kevin here ---

--- trying to fight the roaring silence ---

he chats through the sponge bath to cover what could be awkward --- how many sponge baths? --- do I smell the soap on the cloth? --- do I imagine his touch? --- do I feel the warm strokes of the washcloth? ---

--- leaden silence --- 

“--- flowers for Valentine’s, right? ---"

--- whispered night ---

“--- trim your toenails ---"

--- pewter darkness ---

“--- on your left side for a little while --- be back in a minute ---.”

a minute is a long time when you’re locked in.

--- dinner at Mary and Bob’s, surrogate parents ... Mary talking … talking about find a date for me … no thank you … nonsense! Bob will find someone, Bob is the pastor, knows everyone. … I’m not a heifer needing a bull! ---

--- sinking into darkness ---

the snap – snap of the nail clippers. ---

“--- you feel my touch? --- you like Charlie Parker --- so smooth --- find more music --- PT --- stretch muscles --- see you at lunch ---"

--- silent blindness beckons me ---

the left foot - or is it the right one - one of them has a cramp. PT will find it.

--- grey deafness ---

--- where is here? ---

cardiac monitor and white noise. --- ---

 ---Bob. he never said much, he watched me --- a knock on the door --- 

I remember ... no! don’t remember. don’t think, let it go. ----

but my mind has nothing else to do but tug at the frayed edges of my memory.

---I opened the door. early evening. Bob was at my door. why? what did he want? Yes, of course he was welcome to come in.

we sat on the couch. “I’m concerned about you.” he looked so serious.

“oh. why?”

“you are lonely. let me take care of that.”

“hah! no, don’t you worry …” then …

I remember. I don’t want to, but … beep,beep,beep …

--- Bob lurched at me … tore at my clothes … fought him … tried to kick … pushed against him, but he had leverage … bit him… he slapped me … I screamed … he fled through the patio slider when my neighbor pounded on the front door ---

… beepbeepbeepbeep …

“Jane!” Kevin shouts. “Oh, dear, a seizure! Some phenobarb. ---"

---can't fight the silent darkness ---

---I missed lunch, maybe dinner as well. How long was I gone this time? Food goes straight into my stomach. He tells me my tastebuds have missed nothing. He jokes that I’m getting, steak Dianne, or cherries jubilee, moo goo gai pan. ---

--- gloom and silence ---

---I didn’t go to work the next day. How could I show my face with those bruises? What would I tell Mary? Can’t let her find out what happened --- I drove. I drove all day and all … Headlight ---

--- I am pulled down into the murk again, the whoosh and sigh, the beep-beep are in sync. ---

The one with the heavy cologne has done their rounds for the night. Slowly the headache their cologne leaves behind is lifting. The light in the room is changing. It’s morning.

Will he come today?

Where am I? How long have I been here? Why has nobody missed me? Don’t cry. It’s a little late to cry now.

“Good morning, Jane. It’s Kevin.” He is here, all is good.

“I found another track for you.” Brubeck’s Take Five. Kevin prattles on about the flowers he brought. “I wanted to bring you roses, but thought they would be too, you know.” He laughs softly. “ So, I brought you carnations. I’m not sure why some people say they are common, do you? They are so complex. Hah, listen to me. As if I know …”

Suddenly the music switches to hip-hop, some grating monotone half shout, half rhythm, the words unintelligible except for curses and slurs. The beat driving, pounding and intrusive. My heart speeds up, I fight the respirator, try to hold my breath, try to escape the sudden cacophony.

The most god-awful sound has triggered the most brain activity in …

“Sh, sh, Jane?” Kevin whispers. The music has stopped. I smell his soapy scent near my face, feel his fingers on my cheek.

“Jane, move your eyes. Move your eyes anyway you can.”

Move my eye? How do I do that? I try to look to where I think he is.

“Oh, bless you, Jane! Now, try to blink, please. Try.”

Blink? How? My lids are taped shut, but I’ll try. For Kevin, I try.

The door slams open. “What? What’s wrong?” Doctor Somebody. I recognize the voice, though he has never spoken to me.

“Nothing is wrong, but watch. Jane, look my way again.” His voice is closer to my left ear. I move my eyes that way, feel my head shift.

“I’ll be darned. Yes, go ahead.”

“Turn off the lights and close the blinds, will you?” The light beyond my eyelids dims.

“Jane, honey. I’m going to take the tape off your eyelids.

Soon, I hope I can tell him that my name is Petra.