“What do you mean?” Trish sniffled as she tried to sit up. Her father reached up and grabbed her right arm to help her up. “What do you mean it could have been managed? Why did I lose my arm if I didn’t have to? That’s what you’re saying, right? That I didn’t have to lose my arm?”
Dr. Gutiérrez looked back and forth between Trish’s parents, her dark eyes soft, “Your parents decided it was for the best,” she said gently, “If you need anything else, please buzz one of the nurses. I will be checking on you soon.” She stated as she turned on her heel and virtually sprinted from the room and left the nurses in her wake to care for Trish.
Trish looked over at her parents; she couldn’t even begin to speak. “Trish, we had to do what was best for you in the long run. I know you wouldn’t have wanted to go through multiple surgeries and be in pain, right honey?” her father said as he squeezed her hand tightly. A few nurses stepped closer to the bed as they monitored the emotions of the room. Dr. Gutiérrez walked back into the room with a needle and a vial of clear liquid.
“Here, this should help you to calm down a bit,” the doctor said as she emptied the needle into Trish’s IV, “If you are in pain, all you have to do is press this button right here, and the pain should subside,” Dr. Gutiérrez said as she motioned to a black button connected to a small IV bag. Trish sniffled and nodded as she reached over and pressed it.
“Very good. Don’t forget to ring the nurses if you need anything at all. I’ll come back by later after I speak with the detectives,” she said as she turned and walked out of the room, leaving Trish alone with her thoughts.
Why would my mom do this to me? I knew she was a bitch, but I didn’t think she was evil. Trish thought to herself as the calming and pain medicine kicked in. Her head grew heavy, and her eyelids shut as she became dead to the world.
~~~
She was in a hospital bed, but it wasn’t comfortable at all. The lights were off and the normal and comforting sounds of machines humming and beeping were no longer there. She tried to sit up, but instead of using her right arm, she used her amputated arm and screamed out in pain. The pain flowed from her nub, up her arm, and then pulsated throughout her body. It felt as though a burning fire was raging through her body, one that was uncontrollable, inescapable, and infectious. She bit down on her tongue hard; her mouth filled with the taste of metallic blood and her nostrils smelled copper. What the fuck is wrong with me? Is the only coherent thought she was able to process. After using common sense this time, she swallowed the blood and used her right arm to push herself up into a sitting position.
Trish leaned back against the bed and waited as the pain subsided. The fire that was on ravaging her body was now just a low pulsing, one that could be tuned out if she focused her mind to focus on anything. A low hum draped the room in a black velvet blanket. Trish turned looked all around her, but she couldn’t figure out where exactly the humming was coming from. But it awoke something deep within her. A buried memory that she had long forgotten. She started to hum along to the dark melody. As she hummed along, the music grew louder and louder, her body shook with every breath, and her mind cleared of any wandering thoughts.
Her head was forcibly turned as if someone was controlling it for her. Her head was stuck looking to the right of her, towards the door of her hospital room. She stared into the deep black, which had taken an oblong shape. It was wide, yet narrow, fuzzy around the edges like a cotton ball. The humming abruptly stopped as dead silence dropped into the room.
“Patricia, I upheld my promise,” the entity spoke to her, its voice deeper than anything she’d ever heard. The pressure on her body skyrocketed as though it was going to crush her bones. Her muscles screamed out, but Trish couldn’t think or respond to the pain. She was physically unable to say anything back, entranced by this enigmatic character.
The entity laughed, “Do you remember our passionate meeting? You gave yourself to me, and for that, I thank you.”
Trish tried to respond, but the only noise that came out of her throat was a weird gurgle that sounded as though she were drowning.
“Here, let me help you remember our ardent night,” it said as the memories came flooding into Trish’s mind like a documentary. She sat in horror as she watched the vivid images unfold.
One flash of her falling off of the cliff, another of her broken body laying on the floor. A flash of her crawling. A dip into her speaking with it in the cave. The riddle burned into her mind. Her answers made her feel nostalgic. The naked body that no longer felt like hers slamming against the cold ground of the cave over and over as she mutilated herself in servitude to it. Trish’s lifeless body becoming one with the entity as it took her sexually, mentally, and most of all, spiritually.
“Now you see how important you are to me, my darling Patricia. Fear not, I am here to take care of you in life but also in death. We are now one; your soul is forever entrenched within me. Once you are back within the confines of your home, we shall meet again to discuss your obligations to me. Goodbye for now, my Patricia,” its voice boomed and darkened the already melancholic room.
Chapter Eight
“I
want my fucking arm!” she screamed at both of her parents during the third visit of the week. Her father flinched away from her; his light eyes brimmed with tears.
“Pipe down, you’re a little dramatic, sweetie,” her mother said as she let go of Trish’s hand.
“Dramatic? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Your mother thought it was the best option for you; we don’t want you to suffer—” Trish interrupted him.
“Suffer? Like losing a fucking limb when I didn’t need to? Jesus Christ, ya’ll have really outdone yourselves this time. Get the fuck out!”
“I’m going to have to ask you both to leave,” a male nurse stated, his bald head shining in the fluorescent lights of the room.
“Patricia Rene, don’t you dare speak to us like that, you ungrateful little shit. We did everything we could to take care of you!” her mother cried.
“I said you need to leave,” the nurse stated louder.
“Oh, fuck off with the disrespectful bullshit. If you wanted me to respect you, you wouldn’t have cut my arm off and ruined my life!” Trish growled.
Her father stepped in and started to push her mother out of the room before the nurse had tp. “Don’t worry about a thing sweetie, I’ll talk with your mother, and you just focus on healing. I love you.
Trish ignored him as her mother whispered obscenities into her father’s ear. The nurse followed them out into the hall. Trish leaned back against her pillows and sobbed, her face drenched in tears, and her head convulsed with the pain of a hot tire iron being beat into it. Dr. Gutiérrez walked back into her room quietly. She stepped toward Trish and placed a needle full of clear liquid into her IV.
“Two detectives are here to speak with you about what happened. I told them that I didn’t think you were ready or remembered anything, but they insisted. Please press the call nurse button when you’re ready for them to leave,” Dr. Gutiérrez stated as she glared at the two detectives standing behind her. Tris looked over and saw a man and a woman step aside as the doctor left the room. She left the door wide open.
“This is Detective Smith, and I’m Detective Vannatti from the Oklahoma City Police Department here to ask you a few questions,” the woman said as she tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind an ear. The detective was short with brown hair and dark blue eyes, her skin so pale it was almost translucent also had deep-set wrinkles. The man standing next to her was younger, but his eyes held many more years than her looked. He smelled strongly, a mix of cigarette smoke and liquor. Trish crinkled her nose and sneezed. Both detectives pulled out matching worn green notebooks out of their pockets.
“Okay,” she said.
“Let’s start at the beginning.” Detective Smith said as his wrinkled black button-down struggled against the shape of his gut. “Why were you out at Quincy Fal
ls?”
“I decided to camp and hike the park.”
“Why?” Detective Smith asked.
“Because my grandpa died in March, and we had planned this trip together. I wanted to finish it in his memory,” her eyes welled up.
“Did you ask anyone else to go with you?” Detective Vannatti asked.
“No. No one had ever gone camping with us before, and I knew he’d want me to finish it by myself.”
“Are you sure? Why would he want you to do a hike that could take a week or two by yourself?” Detective Smith spoke up.
“Because he knew I could do it and knew no one else would want to come with,” she answered.
“Did you bring enough supplies to last the trip?” Detective Vannatti asked.
“Yes.” The two detectives looked at each other, communicating something Trish couldn’t figure out, but hoped wasn’t judgment.
“So, how many days had you been on the hike before the incident?” Detective Smith asked.
“Roughly two, I think, maybe three? I can’t remember,” she answered.
“That lines up with the timeline we’ve established,” Detective Vannatti said to Detective Smith. He nodded and wrote something down in his notepad.
“So, do you remember seeing or talking to anyone?” Detective Smith asked.
“Yes, a couple, man and woman,” she said.
“And what did they look like?” he asked.
“Dude was white, chick was white but also looked like a meth head. They were both kind of young-looking. Maybe a little older than myself. They also looked like they had money. Both were very clean, and their clothes were kind of nice-looking,” she answered.
The detectives scribbled in their notebooks. “Did they say anything to you? Try to get you to go with them? Want to camp with you?” Detective Vannatti asked.
“Yes, they spoke with me. They said something about the woman being hurt and needing a band-aid, I gave her one. They then left, but a while later, I heard them talking in the distance about finding me, so I ran and hid behind a big rock,” she explained.
“Did they find you there or somewhere else?” Detective Smith asked without looking up from his notepad.
“They didn’t find me; I can’t remember ever seeing them again,” she said.
“What do you mean? They brutally assaulted you, but you didn’t see them again?” Detective Vannatti questioned.
“They didn’t assault me. Something else did,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Something? Like a mountain lion?” Detective Smith asked. He raised an eyebrow and put his pad back into his back pocket.
“No. I fell off a cliff and made it to a cave,” she responded. She looked away from them and stared at a yellow spot on the ceiling.
“A cave?” Detective Vannatti asked.
“Yes, a cave. I made my way in there, and it was there that I was attacked,” she said.
“They followed you into the cave?” Detective Smith questioned.
“No, a demon or ghost or something in the cave. I was really hurt, as you can see, from the tumble off the cliff. But I wasn’t as in bad shape as I am now until I got to the cave,” she said. Trish kept looking at the ceiling, and Detective Vannatti sighed as Detective Smith groaned.
“Are you okay in here?” a young nurse popped her head into the room. She looked back and forth from Trish and the detectives.
“Yes,” Detective Smith answered.
“I asked Patricia,” the nurse responded tightly. She looked over at Trish and smiled. “Are you okay, darlin’?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said.
“Alright, let me know if you need anything, ya hear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said.
“Continue,” Detective Smith commanded.
Trish took a deep breath, her lungs screamed out in pain and her arm throbbed; the pain pulsing through her nub made her thoughts swarm. Why are they even here? I wasn’t attacked by some serial killer duo. She thought to herself.
“Are you okay?” Detective Vannatti asked.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied.
“Then continue,” Detective Smith ordered.
“Anyway, in the cave there was a riddle carved into the rock. This demon asked me to solve it and I did…” she trailed off.
“What riddle?” Detective Vannatti asked.
“I remember it as clear as day, but I don’t want to talk about it,” she said as she winced in pain.
“That’s fine,” Detective Vannatti said.
“Anyway, this demon talked to me and said if I solved the riddle, he’d help me survive. I solved it and then he made me bow down to him. He controlled my body and slammed it against the ground over and over. He then…” she cried and shook her head.
“It’s okay, you can tell us,” Detective Vannatti said as she reached over to Trish’s good hand and gave it a tight squeeze.
“He raped me and then I passed out. That’s the last thing I remember before waking up here,” she said.
“Thank you, Patricia, that was very brave of you to talk about,” Detective Vannatti stated.
“Yes, but we just want you to know that it wasn’t a demon who brutalized you, it was the male you’d previously encountered,” Detective Smith stated. Detective Vannatti shot him a glare and shook her head, a loose strand of hair fell into her face.
“Thank you for your time, we will come back and speak with you in a couple of weeks or so to give you some time to heal. I hope you start to feel better soon, please give us a call if you remember anything at all,” Detective Vannatti stated as she handed Trish a small white business card.
“Thank you,” Trish whispered, her face turning bright red.
Detective Vannatti pushed Detective Smith out of the room and shut the door behind them. Trish could hear them arguing out in the hallway. She laid against her firm pillow, her tears pouring into the soft cotton fabric.
The side of her face drenched in a mixture of tears and sweat. She closed her eyes, wanting to be anywhere else but here.
~~~
She began dreaming about the forest and how beautiful everything was. She missed the smell of pollen and pine, berries and moss, but most of all, she missed feeling at peace with herself. Her grandpa was there with her to make sure that she remembered everything that he taught her, but especially how to survive. No worries about the cave, the entity, or grief over her grandfather’s death. He hugged her tightly, kissed the top of her head, and then hiked with her.
“Trish, I miss you much. You don’t know what it’s like on the other side without you here. I wish I could’ve finished that hike with you,” her grandpa said.
“It’s okay, I know you couldn’t help it,” she replied as she grabbed his hand tightly.
“I know. It was just my time, and you’ll know when it is your time too.”
“I hope it’s soon. I don’t want to live like this anymore. I need you, and if I can’t have you, I don’t want life at all,” Trish said.
Her grandpa sighed and nodded his head. “You’re just like me, honest to a fault,” he placed a hand on her head and ruffled her ponytail. “But from now on, you need to stop caring about your parents. They don’t have your best interests at heart. Remember how sometimes they wouldn’t let you spend the night with me because I stopped taking meds that they said I needed? That’s going to happen to you soon.”
“What do you mean?”
“They think you’re crazy. The story you told detectives has made its way back to those doctors. They think anyone who isn’t exactly like them is crazy, no if’s and’s or but’s about it,” he sighed.
“They think I’m crazy?” she yelled.
“Yes, they do. Your parents will also tell them about your teenage escapades like not wanting any friends, the nightmares you had every night like me, being a recluse, and being a lesbian as all reasons why you’re crazy,” he screamed as he let go of her hand and waved his hands around. He paced back and f
orth on the suspiciously clean and straight trail they were walking on.
“But I hold down a job at the vet clinic, I have my dog Sausage, and I’m a functioning member of society,” she cried.
“Not anymore, ladybug. They’re now gonna treat you just like they did me. I did everything in my power to protect you, and yet here we are: your parents hate you, your girlfriend left you, and the police think you’re cookier than a box of cereal and nails. I wish I was still around to help you,” her grandpa cried as he flung his arms around her neck and squeezed her.
“What can I do to fix this?”
“Nothing, it’s too late. Just tell your truth, and they’ll give you a cocktail of medicine that makes you crazier than you are now. Whatever you do, do not take it! Promise me when they give you pills, you don’t take them! Promise me!” he yelled into her ear.
“I promise,” she responded. He patted her on the back and kissed her on the cheek.
“Good, thank you for always listening to me. You’ve been the brightest beacon in my life, and I will always be here for you.”
“Where are you going?” she cried as his image began to fade.
“I’ll be back, ladybug. I’ll always be watching over you. You don’t need me yet, but you will,” he said as his image faded to nothing. Trish sat down on the trail and took a deep breath, relishing in the fresh air that she has sorely missed. She wiped the tears off of her face and smiled up at the sky.
~~~
Trish awoke two weeks later with her head loud; her thoughts were running, the lights blinding, and her throat as dry as biscotti.
Everything was bright and right in the world until she had awoken with a start and had a man and a woman staring down at her. The man was clean-shaven and stood right next to her bed as he looked down at her. She could smell a mix of cognac and spicy cinnamon. It made her nose burn, which brought her back to reality. His white button-down shirt taut against his protruding belly, and his ginger hair buzzed short. The woman smelt of nothing, or what Trish thought of as nothing, because the man’s cologne was overpowered.
The Cave Page 6