Destiny's Revenge (Destiny Series - Book 2)

Destiny’s Revenge

Destiny Series, Book 2

Nancy Straight

Published by Nancy Straight at Amazon

Copyright 2011 Nancy Straight

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may shared on Amazon. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, you are encouraged to return to Amazon and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

ISBN 978-1-4507-8848-9

Destiny’s Revenge would not have been possible without the support of several incredible people. Rebecca Ufkes’ enthusiasm and insight were invaluable; she provided the encouragement I needed to write the story. Ryan Lemire and Julie Kabalka read and provided much needed feedback to make the story great. Linda Brant edited the story and polished it until it shined!

Finally, my husband Toby has been supportive of my every adventure. My deciding to write and publish this book was no exception.

Thanks to you all!

All my visitors were gone. Now was the part of the day I hated the most. I had been comatose for two and a half years, and awake for less than a month. It isn’t like it’s portrayed in the movies or the crazy daytime television shows, where the person wakes up and everything is suddenly all roses. I didn’t have some new lease on life, determined to do good deeds and fix all the wrongs I had ever done.

I was terrified of what had happened to me and the fear that it could happen again. I was the only one who knew I hadn’t been in a coma - at least not a conventional coma. I had been held captive by something or by someone in my own head – disconnected from the world, disconnected from my own body. Everyone believed I’d been mauled by a bear. I knew better.

My doctor told me most people who awake from a coma don’t remember anything that happened to them. It was supposed to be like waking up from a really deep sleep. That isn’t at all how I felt. He also told me it’s extremely rare for someone to wake up after a year – I’d been down for over twice that long.

No one has been able to explain why I was in a coma, other than I had a brain injury. Once my physical injuries had healed, there was no real reason for me to still be unresponsive. Because I had been non-responsive for so long and they had no idea why, the doctor told my family I would never wake up. If I did, he said I would have long-term brain damage. He basically told my family to move on. What a jerk!

While I was locked up inside myself, my thoughts and memories consumed me. I couldn’t hear family or friends reading me books or talking to me, I couldn’t feel them holding my hand, brushing my hair, or even exercising my limbs – though I know they did. I didn’t respond to any reflex or pain tests – I just wasn’t there. I didn’t awake refreshed - I had escaped an endless blackness. It wasn’t like being in a dream, because at least with dreams there are images. I couldn’t see or feel anything.

I thought I was dead, suspended in some strange purgatory. I didn’t know what was going on other than I knew I wasn’t in heaven and thought maybe I was stuck in hell. I was alone with my thoughts for more than two years. I relived every major incident in my life without the sights or sounds that accompanied them. It was as if I were trapped, not alive but not dead. No light, no colors, no sounds - just nothingness.

I might still be there if it weren’t for Rewsna. Rewsna is this clairvoyant, telepathic, mind-reading woman who I met a month or so before my
accident.
I don’t know how to describe her. When I’ve been in extreme circumstances, I’ve heard her voice in my head. I don’t know exactly how she does it. When she first started talking to me in my head, I was really worried that I was crazy. Most people who hear voices are.

I have only seen her in person twice, both times on the same day. I was riding a city bus on my way to the mall when she introduced herself. She was able to tell me about my future and knew about things she couldn’t possibly have known. She wouldn’t let me follow her off the bus - she told me to “Keep to my path.” It turns out I was supposed to go to the mall and meet someone who needed my help.

I’m not sure why it was so important that I help the guy at the mall. My help consisted of getting him arrested, jailed under suspicion of murder, I bailed him out, and a couple weeks later someone killed him. For some reason it was vitally important that I save his life just so that he could be killed later. I don’t pretend to understand why – even after over two years of reliving the incident over and over again, the whole
path
thing still baffles me.

I used to try to make sense of it, but the only conclusion I had was: murder is a senseless act. The fact that some lives are pre-determined to be short made me feel powerless. Rewsna never gave me a straight answer to any of the questions I asked her. She was more like a fortuneteller in that respect. She always shared with me just enough information to get me paranoid but never gave me enough help or answers to satisfy my questions.

As I lay there in bed, I found myself with pangs of fear gripping me, threatening to rip my insides out. I had always been very strong, I wouldn’t say fearless, but I wouldn’t describe myself as overly cautious either. Oh sure, at some point when I was a little kid I’m sure I was scared of the boogie man, but since I was eight, I don’t remember being scared of much of anything.

Things have changed. I am in a room with all the lights on, terrified that as soon as I close my eyes, some idiot is going to come turn them off. I’m beyond afraid of the dark now, a better description is paralyzed of the dark. I hope it’s something that will pass.

The morning I woke up from my extended slumber, the daylight was everywhere – warm and all encompassing. The light from the window touched every surface in my room, and it was all so new and welcomed after my stretch in the dark. After a full day of every test the medical staff could perform and visits from nearly everyone I knew, I was exhausted. That night when a nurse came in to dim the lights in my room to help me sleep, I about had a melt-down. I don’t believe either one of us knew what to make of my reaction; needless to say they aren’t saving any money on the light bill around here with me.

I guess having been suspended in darkness for so long made me averse to the feeling again in any form. I used to be fine with my own company, now I craved people around me. I didn’t have to be the center of attention or anything, I just needed to know that I wasn’t alone.

When I was stuck somewhere between life and death, it was Rewsna’s voice that I could hear. I called to her, I told her I knew I was alive, and to my complete shock, she acknowledged that I was, and then helped me break free.

The doctors here are great, but they’re baffled by my extended coma, so they’ve done every test known to man. I can’t tell them what really happened, so I’m forced to endure test after test that shows up as inconclusive. Everyone believes that I was mauled by a bear on a camping trip. My body was torn up pretty badly, but it wasn’t a bear that did it to me. I don’t know what he was - he wasn’t an animal, although he looked it - he couldn’t have been human either.

I was camping with my boyfriend Max when something spooked the horses; one of them got loose and took off. He went after it, and this man-thing came into our campsite and attacked me. When Max came back, he phoned for help and a life-flight helicopter came and took me to a hospital.

All my injuries were treated, I just never regained consciousness. I guess they plugged me up to all kinds of machines, and every one of them said my brain activity was normal. They tried a few reflex tests, and it was as if my body had just shut down. After my injuries were healed and no one could wake me up, I was transferred here, to a nursing home, where I became the resident Sleeping Beauty. A little over three weeks ago, to everyone’s surprise, I woke up. Since then I’ve found out life was much the same for everyone I had left behind, except Max.

Max blamed himself for the
bear attack
, like he could have stopped it even if it
had
been a real bear. The doctors told him there was no reason for me to be in a coma, but because they couldn’t explain what caused it, they didn’t think I would ever wake up. Truthfully, without Rewsna answering me when I reached out to her, I might not have. Up until then all I really remember was being suspended. I don’t remember the supposed bear attack, but from what everyone keeps telling me, maybe it was better that I don’t.

It turns out that if you don’t use your arms or legs for a couple years, they stop working. The whole time I was out, someone was moving my arms and legs for me several times each day. Lucky for me that they did. I have control of everything, but today I spent nearly two hours in physical therapy working on my motor skills. The muscle atrophy is reversible, but having not used my limbs for so long – the work to get back up to a hundred percent is exhausting.

I like the physical therapist; her name is Rebecca and she is by far the coolest lady I’ve ever known. When she decided today’s program would require me gaining proficiency with a spoon and fork, she brought me mint chip ice cream and warm brownies. I don’t know how she knew this was my favorite, but it sure made for a great therapy session. I wanted to walk today between two parallel beams, but the muscles in my arms are too weak to support my weight, and my legs are closer to cooked spaghetti than appendages.

Rebecca had a pulley installed over my bed so I could work on my strength. As I looked around my empty room, I reached up and pulled on the bar a few times. My upper body seemed to be recovering more quickly than my lower body, and I was pleased that after three weeks I could use the pulley-bar for several repetitions.

I settled back on my bed and looked at my clock: it was ten p.m. I was approaching my fourth week awake with still no word from Max. My mom told me he couldn’t take it anymore, so a little over a year ago, he just left. Max had been a paramedic and decided that he would join the Navy and become a Corpsman. The last she had heard he was in Afghanistan. Geography was never my strong suit, but I don’t think there are any oceans in Afghanistan, so I’m not sure how he could be there if he was in the Navy. I asked if maybe she meant the Army, but she said no.

I closed my eyes, exhausted from the day, waiting for sleep to take me. My day started pretty early with doctors, nurses, and another new battery of tests; a couple hours later family and friends began arriving. The afternoon was full of visitors, more tests, and physical therapy. As evening began to encroach on the day, I knew I would be alone again soon. It’s funny how more animated your personality can become when you’re anxious for the people you care about not to leave you. I knew they all needed to get back to their lives, but I didn’t want any of them to go. I used to be so independent, now I felt a little like a basket case.

I began to drift off to sleep when Rewsna’s voice whispered in my head, “
Lauren, I will see you tomorrow. Get your rest. We have much to talk about
.” Her message came in quiet, but clear. Her voice startled me for a second, but I could hear the echo of her words in my mind as I drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

I awoke to a woman sitting at the edge of my bed. She was as still as a mannequin, as if posed as a pseudo visitor. My dreams had been so vivid that I had startled myself awake several times throughout the night, so I wanted to be sure I wasn’t still dreaming. Once I realized who it was sitting there so calmly, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it hard. Her eyes bulged, a little like a cartoon character; my reaction had clearly startled her.

She eyed me closely, “Lauren, you look terrible.”

My first response to anyone was always sarcasm, “I have no intention of going back to working on my beauty sleep, so you’ll just have to get used to this.”

Her tone didn’t waiver with my attempt at humor, “How do you feel?”

I had been asked this same question hundreds of times, but hearing it from Rewsna made me not want to answer with my usual, “fine,” “good,” “great.”

I took a deep breath; she was my ray of hope, my light in the dark. How fair would it be to completely unload on her? I owed her my life. Did she know that if it weren’t for her I would still be lost somewhere between life and death? “I feel like I lost two years of my life. I feel like I lost two years of everyone’s lives. My body’s shriveled up to almost nothing, I can’t walk, I can’t feed myself without a bib, and I have no idea where Max is.” I wasn’t looking for sympathy, but I needed to say it out loud and in doing so I could feel the emotion welling up in my eyes begging to be released. “I don’t know whether to be thrilled that I’m alive, pissed off that I lost over two years of my life, or just thankful to be out of the dark.