Modern Romance

Liam shivered. He was feeling cold. He wanted to cover himself in a cocoon and never step out. But he couldn't. He was weighed down. His hands were pinned down. Then, he began panicking. He didn't understand anything; the darkness, the inability to move his hands, the cold.

Then he heard his name being called out, "Liam."

It was a small whisper, and Liam was sure he wouldn't have heard it if it weren't for the silence and darkness competing for the space inside his head. But, what had happened? Where was he currently? Why did he not have any memories?

"Liam"

There. That voice came back. And even though succumbing to the pure bliss of darkness and peace sounded so good, he opened his eyes.

It wasn't all bright light sort of thing for him. Oh no. There was still darkness. After blinking thrice, he cracked open his crusty eyes again. He could now see the ceiling. There was a bracket fan up there, but it stood still. Like a rusted gate, his neck turned to his right. And there was a big window up there. The moon was full that night, bright and high.

He groaned. He wanted to rub his eyes and take out that gross thing that usually gets in your eye after waking up. But his hands were pinned down. He pulled up his head - which was feeling quite heavy right now and saw the IV drips attached to him. The covers reached only up to his torso. Almost after seeing that, his lower abdomen felt weird. He moved his right hand to check it, but the instant he touched his own body, he wanted to scoot away. It had hurt him.

He tried feeling the bruise but failed in the attempt as it was all covered up in a white bandage. Seriously, what had happened? He raked his brain for the answers, but he came up with nothing. His legs almost felt foreign to him. It was all so very weird.

Ping.

That was his phone for sure. He knew that.

The bright light came from his left. His phone must've turned on due to the text. He turned his head

towards his phone and squinted his eyes. He groaned again. Why did it feel so important to check it?

"Liam".

Gosh, that voice was getting up to his last nerves. Who was it, and where did it come from? But this voice knew how to change his plans. So instead of going back to sleep, he picked up his phone.

The first thing he did was turn down the brightness. Why did the phones even have this much light?

Then he opened his Notification Bar. One message from Claire.

And just as the lightning struck down fast on the earth, memories hit him hard. Energizing him, almost.

Quickly opening up the application, he clicked on Claire's name. She had sent such a long paragraph.

Why? All it had was how grateful she was to him and how rude it was from her side. But there was something odd about that text.

Almost a few words had capital letters. He didn't think of it as much before, but he knew Claire. He knew her tricks. He put his brain to the test and began joining the odd letters.

= I'm sorry. I'll die tonight.

Holy...!

He sat up straight so fast, that he wanted to puke right there and then. This action made him dizzy. His pain intensified about a hundred times. After a few quick breaths, he roughly pulled out the IV drips and shakily stood next to the bed. It would take him a little time, but he'll manage.

He limped outside the hospital, and it was quite easy, to be honest. The nurse was sleeping soundly.

The flat next to the hospital was almost dead too. Except for a few lights trying to escape the curtains from the rooms. He limped forward. At some distance, he saw her.

Claire was right there. Standing- no, leaning dangerously close against the rails, looking almost dreamily at the pond right below. She hadn't noticed him then. This was his only chance then.

When he entered the building about five minutes later, he looked up at the elevator. And then down to his hands. He was getting bloody now. He needed to speed up things. Half lumping and half running, he reached the elevator and waited.

Liam slouched against the walls, barely able to move.

First floor. Second floor. Third. Fourth.

The doors opened and the light illuminated the floor. The door to his very right was his destination.

He opened it slowly, not wanting to alert Claire. But he could see straight ahead, a shadow. This figure was moving weirdly, but then he realized, it was Claire herself, standing on the rails.

It was now or never.

He pushed open the door further, leaped through the mess on the floor, ran, and grunted simultaneously, and caught Claire's hand before she went out of reach.

Claire looked up to see Liam's scrunched-up face. Her hands felt sticky, and the foul smell confirmed her doubts. Liam's hands were bloody and she was slipping.

Faster. She didn't want to hurt him more, and here's what she was doing the same. Hurt him more and more.

She put her hand on the rails and pulled herself too. But she misjudged her weight and when she was safe, Liam had slipped off. Claire stood in a pool of blood and two things broke the silence that night.

Liam's shout, and her screams and pleads.

Even though Liam knew this was his only chance to live, he was grateful that he was able to save Claire once more. To see her face once more. To hold her hands once more.

Soon, he felt the cold pond water touch his back first, and then splash around his body. There was something bothering him to leave Claire alone, but this time, he stopped listening to his name, and closed his eyes.