Opened Eyes - A Short Story

Pinpricks of light filled the sky as I opened my eyes.  Pain shot through my shoulder when I tried to move.  I couldn’t for the life of me remember what had caused that.  Turning my head to look at it caused more pain.  So, I sat there, staring at the stars.

I must have fallen asleep again because the next thing I saw was the sun rising, peeking through the canopy of boughs, dappling the leaf covered floor with polka-dot patterns of light.  As I sat there, still racked with pain, a doe and her fawn stepped into the clearing, stopped and stared right at me.  They stood and watched me for several long moments before the fawn, with the curiousness of the young, stepped closer to me.  It sniffed the air, watched me for a moment and stepped closer.  The fawn took two more steps until it was standing in front of me.  It bent down and sniffed around my face.  Then it licked me twice, as if tasting me.  A sound off to the left made the fawn start and it bolted back to its mother, the two of them trotting off into the woods the way they’d come.

I tried to move again, but the pain made all but the smallest movements agony.  I was probably done for, though I still couldn’t remember how it had happened.

A voice woke me the third time, soft, gentle like a warm breeze.

“You will recover.  All you need is time.”

I looked around as best I could but couldn’t see anyone nearby.  “Where are you?”

“Everywhere.  Nowhere.  It doesn’t matter.  I am here for you.”

The warm breeze intensified, becoming a wind that whipped around my body like a small tornado.  The pain in my shoulder lessened.  Moving still hurt, but with effort I knew I could stand up.  I didn’t know if I could stay standing, however.

“Better,” the soft voice said.  It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact.

The day began to warm and, try as I might, it was impossible to stay awake.  I dozed off, falling into the darkness of sleep.