•Agora eu quero ir / ANAVITORIA•

My feet tingle as they come in contact with something icy, and I look down. My eyes watch as the light water swallows me till my heels. Its movements roll back and forth through the sand. My body relaxes, a calm feeling taking over while I watch my surroundings, trying to understand precisely where I am.

As I look behind me, the only thing I see is an endless beach, with sandbanks following towards the horizon. The sky is one of a blue so vibrant that it is almost white. The wind stirs my long hair, and the smell of the sea air intoxicates me.

I just admire the endless ocean ahead of me; it compels me to follow towards the deep end. The delicate breeze pushes me forward, and I follow its command, being engulfed by the water.

A constant sound hums from a distance, and I try to pay more attention to the calming noise.

Thump – dum – thump - dum.

It's a heartbeat. It's stronger now, reverberating through my body as a warm smile spreads across my lips.

I keep walking into the depths, finding it to be more difficult with every step. The water welcomes me with a certain resistance, but soon I'm almost all submerged. I inhale a lungful of air and dive, feeling a slight pressure as my whole body is underwater now.

The ocean embraces me, and I feel safe. My body begins to float so slightly as if the water holds me with invisible hands. The heartbeat is more audible. It swirls in my ears, and I swear, it's the best melody ever. Like it is a part of me. Like it has always been a part of me, and only now am I finally finding it. I'm complete at last.

But something happens, and the hands that used to hold me push me down. My lungs beg for air, but I can't get back to the surface. The sweet smell of the sea air rota, carrying a metallic scent now. The quiet movements become heavy, with a dangerous riptide. I struggle to go back up, thrashing around the water.

The clear sky closes, the light no longer penetrates the ocean. And the heartbeat decreases, becoming weak and irregular. There's nothing I can do but keep wiggling while I just hear it disappearing far away, leaving me in complete silence.

In complete emptiness.

My anguished scream fills the air, and as my mouth opens, I swallow water – or is it blood? The taste is definitely much heavier than one of a salty ocean. I keep going further towards the bottom, and I just wait to pass out one moment or another. But that doesn't happen, the bottom doesn't touch my feet, and I feel stuck in this endless limbo. I can't see anything. And the only sound comes from my sobs and yelps.

I'm breaking inside while my screams reverberate through my cracks.

I wake up with a start, sitting quickly on the bed, pulling my knees to my torso. My body is covered in sweat, some of my short locks cling to my damp cheeks. I don't know if my face is soaked with sweat or tears – or both, probably both. My breath hitches, and I feel frozen as my eyes take a long time to get used to the blackness of the room.

I jump in shock when a thunder hits from a distance. My trembling breath fills the room, along with the heavy rain hitting the window.

The initial shock passes. Now all emotions take over me, and I find myself shrinking, resting my forehead on my knees as my hands come to my stomach. I try to let the thunders guide me back to reality.

One storm increases outside while another one occurs inside me.

I throw my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet meeting the cold floor. Another thunder tears up the sky, the sound reverberating in the room. But this time, the air also carries the beep noise of my pager.

I stretch my arm towards the dresser to reach the device, and I see the call coming from the ER. I sigh heavily and rub my eyes, preparing for what must be waiting for me. I put on my shoes and wear my lab coat, rushing to the door. The adrenaline numbing my nightmare for now.

The second I enter the huge ER, surrounded by beds and trauma rooms, I can already feel a tense air. I start getting ready, dressing the surgical coat while watching new patients arriving. From the whispers, I hear that an accident with several cars happened on a busy highway.

''Lena. Lena!'' A distant voice calls me, and I turn my neck, realizing that I am being called to one of the beds. I blink a few times and finish tying the surgical coat as I walk.

''Deep head injury and it also seems to be a leg trauma,'' the nurse informs me as I approach the stretcher. The patient is a young boy. He's barely conscious, his head trying to move while he groans in pain.

"Call Ortho too,'' I say, putting on my gloves, observing how swollen his leg is. I begin to examine him - blood is leaking from a cut on his forehead, and there is evidence of internal bleeding from his irregular pupil.

''I'm already here,'' a husky voice answers, approaching us. I clench my jaw hard before I raise my eyes and find green irises staring back at me. Of course, he had to be the ortho attendant they would call, freaking great.

I feel his stare set on me for a few seconds, but I know he won't try anything right now. At least, despite everything, one thing we've never lost is our professionalism. And we both continue silently examining the patient.

''Apparently, there's a huge amount of blood trapped under his skin. I need an ultrasound scan. Now!'' His voice is strong as I clean the head cut.

''He needs an MRI too. Now. Are you going to take a lot of time with the leg?'' I say, my eyes still traced on the wound, my voice harsh.

''It will take as long as it needs, Bernardi. Unless you want to risk a young guy losing his leg.'' I can't hold myself back this time, and my hard stare finds him. I shake my head, scoffing. We keep our stare for a couple more seconds, having a silent power dispute.

His ultrasound machine arrives, and I change my focus to another nurse, asking her to page Mendes. When the video shows on the ultrasound screen, I catch myself admiring the black and white images. They seem like waves, bringing back memories. His penetrating gaze goes through me for a moment, and his feature softens just for a second when he sees my new expression.

''He needs surgery. The hemorrhage is huge. There's no time to stop for a scan. How sure are you that he's also a brain bleeding?'' he asks me, with a slightly more delicate voice, but still charged with power. His head is somewhat tilting to the side, waiting for my answer.

''I...'' I try to speak, but nothing else comes out. Everything indicates a hemorrhage somewhere in the patient's brain, but I still feel insecure about my diagnosis. It's been quite a while since I've felt entirely confident with my medical decisions. I bounce on my heels as my eyes move between the kid on the gurney and the other doctor on the case.

''Elena, you're a good surgeon. You know the answer. Just trust yourself.'' His tone is soothing, making me miss old days – and, at the same time, making me get livid remembering some of his other words. I swallow and shake my head up and down.

''Page Mendes, we need to do a craniotomy,'' I communicate this to the nurse with growing confidence and power behind my voice.

We roll the patient to the surgical floor. Both teams are already waiting in the operation room, and we start the procedures. The patient's leg is open, and blood gushes out, relieving the pressure that was inside. Meanwhile, in his skull, we begin the incision, finding an intracranial hemorrhage that, thankfully, is not so difficult to repair. Relief fills me, and I feel my shoulders relax.

Everyone tell jokes and share stories as the complicated part of the surgery ends.

The ortho finishes the leg's repair first, going back to assist in the ER. My stare follows the green eyes walking away. A small part of me wants to drop everything and simply run after him, but I keep my feet stuck in the same position, cursing myself inside for being so weak.

The procedure comes to an end, and I get the task to stitch the incision, closing carefully the large hole we had to make in his head. It's incredible how much damage we had to do to make the patient better. Sometimes, you need to break a little bit more, shred everything until it's in fragments. To, after, put it all together again-he the healing that comes from the chaos.

The one million dollar question is, how do you know what is best for each case? When is it best to break even more? When is it best to just patch everything and let it heal? How do you know for sure that the path you are following will not only worse the wounds?

🩺🩺🩺

My boots echo through the hospital corridors as I make my way through the main lobby after finishing my work. The storm died around 4 pm, but we got patients for the rest of the day, making most staff do extra hours.

After my shift, I took a much-needed shower, feeling disgusting under so many layers of sweat and blood. And now, I can't wait to get out of here and find comfort in my house.

My phone vibrates in my purse, and I dig it out, seeing the message confirming an appointment tomorrow. My head raises, and I shut my eyes. I had forgotten entirely about this appointment, and I dread it already. I turn off my phone and throw it back inside my purse.

I follow the hallway with glass walls going towards the exit when a figure appears on the other side. We both stop and just stare at each other from a distance. The long corridor, which connects two wings of the hospital, separate us, and the exit door is right in the middle. My heart skips a beat, and I know that in my eyes, there must be as many emotions as there are in his green mossy irises.

As if we are magnets, we begin walking at the same time towards the other. With every step I take, I can feel his warmth closer and I almost stretch my arm so I can touch him sooner.

''Elena! There you are.'' My head snaps towards the unknown voice that broke the spell I was under. I find Jason staring at me a few steps forward, holding the door open with half his body outside. His voice is casual, but I can see the warning behind it.

''I've been looking everywhere for you. Chloe and Chris are waiting for us. Chop chop!'' he continues with all his fake triviality. I observe him for a second, having  no idea what the hell he's talking about. ''No questions, just come before Chlo kills us both,'' Jason says, reaching out towards me. My eyes wander between his opened hand in front of me and the other man in the hallway.

His green eyes beg me to stay. I struggle internally, trying to make a decision, feeling the storm swirling inside me. To go or to stay. To break more or to just patch it all up. I don't know what to do. Or I do. And I just need to trust myself like I used to. My eyes close, and I stare at the abyss in front of me.

I am not in my nightmare; I'm not drowning. I can climb to the surface. I open my eyes, and I take the leap.

My hand meets Jason's. He throws me a reassuring smile and starts guiding me out the door, the cold night air embracing me.

''Elena...'' The husky voice back in the hallway speaks, taking a step in my direction.

Jason's head snaps, and I can see the despise dancing in his eyes. I squeeze his hand before releasing it while I turn my head towards the door, staring directly at those damn mossy irises.

''I can't now. I...'' My voice breaks, and I need to look away, wetting my lips, ''I'm sorry, but I can't now. Have a goodnight.'' The last part comes out as strong as possible, not giving him any chance to talk back. My body is stiff, and my features clearly translate mixed emotions.

I see his mouth opening and closing a few more times as we just look at each other, my throat getting dry and my legs weaker. It's hard to stop looking. There is a temptation in the tragedy. And we've both always been like magnets, finding our way to the other. But I can gradually break the effect.

My eyes now pass through the glass walls of the hallway, and soon after, they admire the street around me. My mind was still replaying the last second we looked at each other, all his emotions matching mine – the pain should have connected us, but it only tore us apart, teaching me that sometimes, love simply isn't enough.

Jason throws his arms around my shoulders and pulls me closer while we start walking again. He knows how to be downright annoying, but he's also the best friend I could have. Actually, he is kind of a big brother I never asked for.

''You just have to say it one time, Lena Bear, and I'll break his perfect nose,'' he says with a playful and quite sadistic tone. I shake my head as I smile, pushing him with my body.

''So, will you tell me why you're kidnapping me?'' I ask as we cross the street heading towards the hospital staff's favorite bar. It's only two minutes away, and the drinks are cheap.

''You know your best friend, she wanted to do like a going-away party.'' I stare at him frowning my face. ''I know, I know.  You'll be back in a month. But it's Chloe, and the girl loves big dramatic gestures,'' he says, raising his hands in surrender as we both laugh.

I feel the grip on my chest disappearing as we enter the pub, being met by loud noises. The place is quite dark, with only some small yellow lights hanging above. There are some booths at the left corner, but aside from that, the floor is packed with high, round tables. The bar is on the other side of the room, with stools surrounding it. Everyone in the hospital knows about this place, and sometimes it can be lovely, knowing you will find familiar faces around. Other times, however, this exact reason makes me never want to come back.

''Finally!!'' Chloe screams, coming towards us from a high table. Her voice is a little bit slurred, and her beautiful smile is loose and huge. There are already some bottles of beers and several shot glasses on the table, some finished.

''You didn't have to do this, you crazy girl,'' I answer, teasing her, trying to come off angry with my hands on my hips and eyes narrowed. But soon, I break, smiling genuinely while pulling her to a hug.

''Shut up. Of course, I did. And anyway, I missed getting hammered with my best friends, so please. Let's just get plastered.'' She wraps her long arms around my and Jason's shoulders, guiding us to Chris sitting at the table.

I release my hair from the lazy bun, and I let its locks flow on my shoulders. The pub is full of people enjoying a Saturday night.

''I'm wrecked. I had to perform like four surgeries today thanks to the storm,'' Chris mumbles, welcoming us with a smile. He holds two shots doses and gives me one. I smile at my friend, and we both drink up. The alcohol burns down my throat, and I frown when feeling the bitter taste.

I look at my friends as I pull a chair, sitting in its comfy cushion. My lips drink another shot, and I grab one of the beers, feeling its cold glass against my palm. Soon we all start discussing random subjects, playing around and enjoying each other, a peaceful air around us.

I think about what I'm doing and which choice is the best to make. I wet my lips while playing with my necklace, my fingers intertwining in its long and thin cord. I can't change the past. And I can't stand to just patch the wounds anymore.

Maybe my fear is not that this trip will go wrong – it is to be trying something new, out of my old comfort zone. Those green eyes had been by my side for six years, it's a huge comfort zone. Until it wasn't anymore.

And, the biggest apprehension is that if I do travel, it would be like admitting my failure, admitting that I can't even heal myself.

For the first time, I admit all of it. And it brings so many emotions and insecurities alongside. But simultaneously, it also lifts a heavy weight off my shoulders. I can't continue lying to myself and keep living a life that is no longer mine. I am not the same me. Storms come and go. You just have to survive them.

And I've survived. Now it's time to live again.

——•:•——
HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE CHAPTER. DON'T FORGET TO VOTE. THANKS FOR READING

Song lyrics: Now I wanna go. So I can meet myself again and again. I don't wanna melt with your silly smile. I wanna rebuild myself. Away from you

- I loved so so much to write the nightmare, I just love to write more poetic paragraphs
- I also loved to write her interaction with her friends. And her final thoughts were so incredible to put out

•any thoughts or theories? And yesss, green eyes and Elena have a long backstory, 6 years is a longer time.... it is a grief losing it