Read Online The Color of a Dream by Julianne MacLean - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Julianne MacLean
Ads: Link
swear
I’ll finish you.”
That was all I could take. Something
exploded in me and the whole world turned red. I shot like a rocket
off the sofa and tackled him onto his back on the living room
floor.
I punched him in the face but he punched me
back which caused a ringing in my ears.
Grabbing him by the shirt, I hauled him to
his feet and threw him into a small table. The lamp smashed to the
floor.
Rick scrambled to his feet and launched
himself back at me. He pummeled me in the stomach, then his fist
connected with my jaw. Dizziness swirled around in my brain. I
couldn’t seem to comprehend how to curl my hands into fists in
order to fight back. My brain was in a fog. He hit me again and
again.
The beating eventually stopped, but it took
me a few seconds to realize that Rick was now on the other side of
the room. How had he gotten over there? My cheekbones were
throbbing, my lip was split open and bleeding, but I couldn’t feel
much pain anywhere else. Everything was numb.
I squinted at my brother and wasn’t sure
how, or when, I had caused so much damage, because there was blood
pouring out of his nose and he was doubled over, clutching a
rib.
“Get out of here,” he said. “Go home and
don’t ever come back here.”
I bent to pick up my backpack on the floor.
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” I said, “because I don’t ever want to see
your face again.”
* * *
Two days later, I was staring out another
airplane window as we lifted off the runway at sunset.
I had called Angela’s parents immediately
after walking out of Rick’s apartment. Obviously they were
devastated and inconsolable but grateful for my phone call. After a
lengthy conversation, they entrusted me with the grim duty of
bringing Angela’s remains home to be buried in their family
plot.
It was the worst week of my life.
I wondered what my parents were going to say
about all of it.
A New
Life
Chapter Twenty-two
Nadia Carmichael
It was the dream that woke me.
Again.
I was keeping count now, and this was the
fourth time in the past two weeks.
Something was different tonight, however. As
my eyes fluttered open in the darkness, I was able to remember the
striking and vivid images of what I’d seen below me in the
dream—and this time I did not wake in a panic, fearing for my
life.
Allow me to explain. My name is Nadia
Carmichael and almost a year ago, I contracted a virus that
attacked my heart muscle. My health deteriorated quickly until I
wound up in the ICU suffering from heart failure.
To complicate things more, I was six months
pregnant at the time and completely alone because the father of my
child wanted nothing to do with me. He paid me a generous lump sum
to disappear from his life forever, release him of all obligations
and promise never to ask him for anything more.
Thankfully my twin sister Diana took me in
when I was ill and waiting for the transplant. She has since helped
me care for my baby daughter, Ellen, who was born healthy last fall
and is the light of both our lives.
But it has not been an easy road to get
here. Since the transplant eight months ago, I have lived in an
almost constant state of anxiety while my body adjusted to my new
heart.
Although, perhaps “adjusted” is too simple a
word, because twice now, follow-up cardiac biopsies revealed that
my immune system was rejecting the unfamiliar organ inside me. My
body had viewed my new heart as a foreign invader and had attempted
to fight it off.
This is actually quite a common occurrence
for organ transplant recipients. To combat this, I take
immunosuppressive drugs, which I will take for the rest of my life.
The downside is that they weaken my immune system overall and put
me at greater risk for all sorts of other infections.
For this reason I was forced to live like a
hermit the first few months after my transplant and avoid public
places where germs were prevalent. I had to wear a mask when I went
out, but thankfully my pathology
I’ll finish you.”
That was all I could take. Something
exploded in me and the whole world turned red. I shot like a rocket
off the sofa and tackled him onto his back on the living room
floor.
I punched him in the face but he punched me
back which caused a ringing in my ears.
Grabbing him by the shirt, I hauled him to
his feet and threw him into a small table. The lamp smashed to the
floor.
Rick scrambled to his feet and launched
himself back at me. He pummeled me in the stomach, then his fist
connected with my jaw. Dizziness swirled around in my brain. I
couldn’t seem to comprehend how to curl my hands into fists in
order to fight back. My brain was in a fog. He hit me again and
again.
The beating eventually stopped, but it took
me a few seconds to realize that Rick was now on the other side of
the room. How had he gotten over there? My cheekbones were
throbbing, my lip was split open and bleeding, but I couldn’t feel
much pain anywhere else. Everything was numb.
I squinted at my brother and wasn’t sure
how, or when, I had caused so much damage, because there was blood
pouring out of his nose and he was doubled over, clutching a
rib.
“Get out of here,” he said. “Go home and
don’t ever come back here.”
I bent to pick up my backpack on the floor.
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” I said, “because I don’t ever want to see
your face again.”
* * *
Two days later, I was staring out another
airplane window as we lifted off the runway at sunset.
I had called Angela’s parents immediately
after walking out of Rick’s apartment. Obviously they were
devastated and inconsolable but grateful for my phone call. After a
lengthy conversation, they entrusted me with the grim duty of
bringing Angela’s remains home to be buried in their family
plot.
It was the worst week of my life.
I wondered what my parents were going to say
about all of it.
A New
Life
Chapter Twenty-two
Nadia Carmichael
It was the dream that woke me.
Again.
I was keeping count now, and this was the
fourth time in the past two weeks.
Something was different tonight, however. As
my eyes fluttered open in the darkness, I was able to remember the
striking and vivid images of what I’d seen below me in the
dream—and this time I did not wake in a panic, fearing for my
life.
Allow me to explain. My name is Nadia
Carmichael and almost a year ago, I contracted a virus that
attacked my heart muscle. My health deteriorated quickly until I
wound up in the ICU suffering from heart failure.
To complicate things more, I was six months
pregnant at the time and completely alone because the father of my
child wanted nothing to do with me. He paid me a generous lump sum
to disappear from his life forever, release him of all obligations
and promise never to ask him for anything more.
Thankfully my twin sister Diana took me in
when I was ill and waiting for the transplant. She has since helped
me care for my baby daughter, Ellen, who was born healthy last fall
and is the light of both our lives.
But it has not been an easy road to get
here. Since the transplant eight months ago, I have lived in an
almost constant state of anxiety while my body adjusted to my new
heart.
Although, perhaps “adjusted” is too simple a
word, because twice now, follow-up cardiac biopsies revealed that
my immune system was rejecting the unfamiliar organ inside me. My
body had viewed my new heart as a foreign invader and had attempted
to fight it off.
This is actually quite a common occurrence
for organ transplant recipients. To combat this, I take
immunosuppressive drugs, which I will take for the rest of my life.
The downside is that they weaken my immune system overall and put
me at greater risk for all sorts of other infections.
For this reason I was forced to live like a
hermit the first few months after my transplant and avoid public
places where germs were prevalent. I had to wear a mask when I went
out, but thankfully my pathology
Similar Books
