“Just checking in,” the sound of Mary’s voice pulled me awake.
As my eyes tried to focus, a stabbing pain, like a hot nail, drilled into the side of my head. Reaching my hand up to comfort the pain, I realized I couldn’t move. “Something is wrong!” I frantically called out, but no words emanated from my mouth.
“Jim?” Mary asked from a distance.
“I can’t move! What’s going on?” calling out again as my eyes searched the dark room. With a click, the harsh light from the ceiling blinded me as Mary flipped them on. Her blurry figure crossed the room.
“I can see your eyes moving—Why won’t you answer?”
“Please call 911!” I pleaded in silence as my eyes focused, revealing her annoyed expression. Reaching down, she placed her hand on my chest and pushed against my unsheeted body, trying to elicit a response. Though I could see my body move from the force of her shoves … I felt nothing.
“Jim, you’re scaring me!” The fear in her eyes and voice as my motionless body laid sprawled out only increased my anxiety. Moving her hands up to my face and clasping it between them, “I’m calling an ambulance!”
Relieved to hear those words, I watched as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Thank you,” I attempted to say in vain.
Hearing the chime of her phone, from it unlocking, I used all my willpower to attempt the smallest movement. Straining, I saw my body react as my hands twitched, followed soon by both arms. As my legs followed suit, my vision fluttered.
“Oh, my god! Are you having a seizure?” Mary screamed. The convulsing of my body, reminiscent of going down a washboard dirt road, violently shook everything I could see. Through this shaking, I watched as she grabbed onto my shoulders in a futile attempt at holding me still.
“What is happening?” I screamed into the emptiness of my head. As the shaking slowed and my vision settled, I could see the tears swelling in Mary’s eyes. Instinctively, I thought of reaching out to comfort her, but my body had different plans as I lay paralyzed.
“I’m calling now,” she said, snatching her phone from the bed.
“Thank God!” a wave of relief washed over as I watched her repeatedly tap on the screen, then place the phone down.
After three rings, which felt like an eternity, the call answered. “911. What is your emergency?” asked the monotone man.
“I think my husband just had some type of seizure! Please help me!” Mary frantically shouted.
“Alright ma’am—I have your location as 1687 West Fourth Street in Baltimore. Is that correct?”
“Yes! Please hurry!”
The calm voice of the dispatcher returned, “Emergency services are in route to you now. Is your husband responsive?”
Hearing him ask, I tried as hard as I could to move any part of my body. I didn’t care whether it was a finger or even a toe, I just wanted to give some sign. A sign that I was still there, just hidden behind this motionless body. As Mary leaned over me, I darted my eyes back and forth in my last attempt.
“Only his eyes are slightly moving, but they are very bloodshot,” relaying her discovery to the phone.
“Success!” I screamed into the restrictions of my thoughts as I steadied my eyes.
“Is your husband on any medication? Either prescription or recreational?”
“No, not a thing!”
“Ok, ma’am. EMS is on the way, I just—”
“His arm is moving!” Mary shrieked, cutting him off.
A shock of confusion hit me. Pulling my eyes away from her, I looked down at my body to an inconceivable sight, my right arm lifted from the mattress. Looking back at Mary, and her look of relief, I watched my arm move towards her. “I’m not doing that!” raced through my mind. In utter shock and disbelief, my hand grasped onto Mary’s arm.
“That hurts!” She screamed, yanking her arm from the clutches of my grip.
“Ma’am? What’s happening?” asked the man over the phone.
“He grabbed me and pushed his nails into my arm,” she answered, jumping up from the bed. A small streak of blood smeared down her arm. “I’m bleeding.”
J.L. Gang 
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