Bloom

Written by Wolsal

September, 2024

Aching. That was the only word to properly describe the sensation, a deep ache burrowing itself into his bones. Pain bloomed in his chest, sending spikes of pain to his head.

The morning sun blossomed out, sending blooming rays cascading down onto the surface of the earth, shining into his squinted eyes, worsening the thumping headache that only grew as seconds dragged into minutes. Time stood still, speeding and slowing at the same time, a sickening nausea formed in the pit of his stomach. 

Brightly colored blue and yellow halos outlined and shone onto the blurry forms he could make out. A loud rhythm hummed in his ears, clouding his head and blocking out any sound.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been. A few minutes? A few hours? He didn’t know. The world seemed to fade in and out, one second there were blurred forms around him, voices he couldn’t quite make out, the next he was drifting into nothingness, indescribable shapes and colors surrounding him and pressing in on his form, suffocating any rational thoughts.

He felt a soft hand press against his forehead, burrs of pain radiating from the point of contact, gone within an instant. 

Hushed murmurs enveloped him, he didn’t know what they were saying. Were they talking to him? Were they even real? From consuming nothingness, he felt a pressure on his chest, suddenly making him sickeningly aware of the incredibly slow thumping that permeated his being. 

Vaguely, he could make out something being waved in front of his face. The hushed murmurs were getting louder, notes of what he could discern as concern were now sowed into their voices. 

This was real. The presence of another beside him was unmistakable, as was the sensation of another hand wrapped around his own. 

Words of what he only assumed could be of comfort were uttered. Whilst he couldn’t tell what exactly was being said… he did feel comforted. A deep calm enveloped him, surrendering himself to the overwhelming heaviness that pressed on him from every direction, forcing him to give into it. 

The pain began to fade, being replaced by the oppressive nothingness.

.

.

.

In what could only truly be described as a burning flashbang that jolted him back to the blinding pain, but this time, he could make out what was happening.

A bitter taste that burned his taste buds filled his mouth, his face scrunching in the apparent discomfort. But… he could see what was happening now. Blurry shapes shifted and formed into a coherent image. People. A worried face, another face of what he could describe as… disappointment?

 His body ached, and he found himself lying on grass that prickled his body, the sensation of wetness from dew from the previous night stung his skin, burrowing into his matted fur. The blinding pain melted away, being replaced with the still palpable deep ache. And yet, he was here. He was alive. And god, he had never been happier to be so.