The first thing he saw was a young, neat woman with a pale face. The smile had left her lips, now cracked, and burning tears had emptied her eyes. Her still warm hand trembled as it touched his cold, stiff hand, which suddenly jerked where it had lain on the bed.
Andrew felt the warmth, her heat flowing into his veins. When he finally tried to rise, his head rang with agony. The girl, seeing him move, quickly stood and leaned gently over him, trying to catch the warm flow of his breath.
White, harsh light blinded him and made it impossible to look around clearly. The room was plain and ordinary—like any hospital. Objects and furniture were no different from those in other wards: a small window with the shadow of branches trembling outside; in front of him was a worn sink; beside the bed, a squeaky little cabinet; and the huge bed where he still lays.
On the cabinet, he noticed a small frame with a photo. Looking closely, he saw a smiling boy, with a young man and woman beside him, playing carelessly in the grass.
These people were the happiest, he thought.
But then he noticed a large, frightening machine with many cables running into his veins. The sight made his pain worse.
— "Ow!" he groaned, frowning and touching the hand pierced by a needle.
Lyle quickly rose in shock. "I'm sorry!" she cried.
Andrew looked at her in confusion, trying to open his eyes fully. "Ah… it's okay…" he said uncertainly.
For a long moment, he looked at the girl before him—bright, hopeful, with a weak smile.
It was a stunning moment—a moment of peace and happiness, or was it…?
But then sudden light terrified Andrew: a stiff, blinding stream of white echo.
Endless pulses of pain froze his whole body. Every muscle locked, his limbs lost connection. His hands and fingers turned to stone. Lifting even a finger felt like lifting a heavy stone.
His mind stayed awake, but his body was trapped.
"What's happening?…" he whispered, trying in vain to move.
"Where am I?" he asked desperately, looking around.
— "Aaaaa!" he shouted, hoping someone would hear. His voice only echoed into emptiness.
— "Ha ha!" a child's laugh answered back.
— "Who's there?!" He lost balance and looked around in panic as the carefree laughter returned.
— "Ha ha ha!"
Suddenly there were small steps. Someone ran behind him. He spun quickly!… Nobody.
He was sure the child wanted to scare him. He hated the thought. Fear, dread, and strange temptation mixed inside him. His heart pounded at a crazy pace.
Steps again! This time right in front of him, close to his face, whispering in his ear. But when he turned, they were gone—only laughter and echo remained.
— "Mark?…" escaped unexpectedly from Andrew's weak lips.
Something inside him pushed him to say the name. The word slipped out softly and naturally.
His body went numb. His veins filled with burning cement, ready to burst. Blood rose to his throat, leaving a taste on his tongue. His throat burned, as if he had swallowed lump of stones.
Reflexes failed. Muscles softened. Each second stretched like an eternity of pain and weakness.
Everything he had seen before lost meaning. His eyes dimmed, vision blurred. Darkness spread across the horizon.
In the fading picture, Andrew smelled something— the smell he could never mistake. The stench of rust, like on subway walls and tracks, mixed with the foul odor of sewage water.
A sudden wind rushed past Andrew, whistling in his ears. Through the wind came a child's desperate cry:
— "Daddy!…" The voice broke with sobs.
Andrew froze. His heart tightened and raced wildly. Fear took control. His limbs turned white, his skin covered with chills.
— "Daddy!!!" the broken voice called again and again, through streams of tears.
When Andrew finally came to, the boy who had been at the platform was gone—so suddenly, so quietly.
— "MARK!" he screamed, rushing toward the tracks. "NOOO!!!" His cry echoed through the whole tunnel.
Without hesitation, the man ran into the rails, just at the moment, when a huge train roared through.
Silence fell at once. The heavy air thick with rust left the place. Memory stopped, hanging in space, leaving only the smell and fading echoes.
His mind drifted through chambers, chasing peace that trembled away. Thoughts clustered into a knot, pressing on every wound. His head roared with wind that swept away every last grain of dust.
His hearing adjusted. Whistling stopped. His heartbeat slowed. The unbearable screams that had tortured him vanished—as if they had never existed.
The air filled with the scent of fresh grass. His breath calmed, lungs filled with ease.
He heard voices—bright and cheerful, soaked in sunlight, reflected in the smiles of Lyle and Mark. They laughed, and their laughter carried Andrew too. A wide smile spread across his face, filled with hope.
Without thinking, without hesitation, the man walked toward them. His body rose above clouds, his feet light, filled with freedom.
He ran across a meadow rich with flowers' sweet scent, where Mark went to him, locking eyes with his father. The child stumbled, but plunged into Andrew's arms, wrapping his little hands around his back.
Warmth flooded Andrew's chest. His heart beat in perfect rhythm with Mark's.
In that quiet moment, everything slowed. Blood flowed gently through his body.
Warm memories swelled and wrapped his vision, where Lyle's delicate form appeared, stepping close to kiss him again.
— "You didn't give up," she smiled brightly.
Andrew looked at her with a calm face, saying more than words.
Everything that happened was now only memory. What mattered was the moment—the moment that lasted forever and would never fade.