--- Clarity -- 344 -- SHADOWS ---
My right fist collided with the punching bag, making a hollow sound. The bag swung on its chain, back and forth like a heavy pendulum.
The call from the hospital hadn't come yet, and I was worried, little as I wanted to admit it.
I knocked the bag away before it could hit me.
The call from the hospital hadn't come yet, so I hit the bag harder. My fists thrust forward as I forged a rhythm and kept it up, taped-over hands making contact again and again. One of the rookies had set up a tape player. Loud music blared into the room, but the sounds seemed to fall away from me before I could hear them, so that all I heard was the throbbing of the bass.
The bag swung on its chain, higher away from me this time, and then it headed straight back for me with a force that took a lot more of my weight than it should have to neutralize it.
The call from the hospital hadn't come yet. I wanted to just barge in and demand to see her.
"Don't strike like that," I heard a trainer shout at a rookie, "it leaves you open. You go way too wild... Do you want to die on your first mission?"
I never head the rookie's reply, because I revived my rhythm and attacked the bag again. Memories of the look on Lart's face as I hauled the man off in handcuffs pushed me to strike the bag harder.
According to the hospital, she hadn't woken up yet. She wasn't ready to rejoin the living.
Well, I hadn't really been ready to join the dead, when she found me and pulled me away from my own personal abyss. But I'd been journeying towards death anyways.
I needed to return the favor, to pull her out of that damn sleep the way I'd pulled her from the closet. I needed to see her return to the sun-lit world.
How could I see with clarity if she saw not at all?