Treacherous

The minute I open my eyes I feel two hands. Soft like huge cotton balls. I imagine they look like grey clouds.
The hands wrap themselves neatly around my throat, finger after finger. Start to squeeze it. Press on my chest. Their cozy appearance is treacherous.

The hands of 'what if'. 'What if' makes my breath stagnate in my throat. 'What if' is fear's mightiest weapon.

My mind is battling with fear - day and night. My eyes search for Kenji's: fighting together would reassure me I tell myself. Except he is just as afraid as I am.

Hours pass. 'What if' tightens its grip. Right until the hands squeeze my throat as tightly as possible to get the last drop of air out of me and I almost choke. Two hours after Kenji returns from his routine hospital visit this morning, he's summoned back to the Emergency Room. Without me.

'What if' has not left the building yet.