Desperation

"Where is she?!"

"Henry, please."

"Where's my wife."

"Henry. She's gone."

"She can't be. She promised!"

Henry couldn't breathe, the air continued to rush out, but he was unable to retain a breath. His head pounded and his vision was blurry. Fear choked him - or was it his own fingers… Taring the blanket from his body, Henry lurched from the bed, his hands around his neck. Heaving in a breath, his throat stung and his lungs burned as the oxygen suddenly returned. He spun around to face the bed, the empty bed. He squinted at the bedside clock - 7:24 am. The room seemed to spin and he couldn't focus on a single fragmented detail. She wasn't there. She was gone. Eyes scanning desperately, he searched for evidence of her presence, clues that she'd been there. He came up empty.

"Elizabeth." He sobbed her name, clutching at his sides with trembling hands.

Henry, stop. He heard her voice, but she was no where in the room. He turned, the bright light shining through the bedroom window blinding him. Henry, baby. It's okay.

"Please." He begged.

His stomach clenched with dread, and suddenly he felt nauseous. Whipping around again, he stumbled towards the bathroom. Dropping to the floor before the toilet, he gripped the bowl and retched. His entire body fought hopelessly to rid him of the horror deep in his belly, but nothing came. Stumbling backwards, he rushed from the room on unsteady feet. He needed to find her. He heard her whisper in his ear again, but when he looked, no one was there. Henry, you can do this.

"I can't! I can't without you." Yes you can, and you will.

"No, baby, please!" tears streamed down his cheeks as he pushed open doors, desperately hoping to find her in one of the many rooms. Every door he opened that failed to reveal her presence was another blow, like he'd been punched in the stomach. His legs gave way, and suddenly so did the floor beneath him. He was falling. The walls suddenly moved, and his ears filled with a deafening sound. He couldn't hear her voice anymore. He was suffocating. Jolting upward for a second time, he was in their bed again. Gasping for breath, he wiped the tears from his cheeks. Turning to her side of the bed, he found it empty again. Glancing at the clock, it read 7:24 am. The déjà vu was intense, and the nausea returned immediately. The sheets were saturated with sweat. He jumped out of the bed, staggering towards the door. Where are you? He ran down the stairs, calling out her name. His feet felt heavy, and time seemed to move so slowly.

"Elizabeth!"

She was standing in the kitchen, her back turned to him. He focused hard, trying to determine if she was really there. Relief flooded him, but the incredible fear was relentless, the trepidation that this was all dream weighed heavily. He wouldn't believe it until she was in his arms, until he could hear her voice and feel her warm breaths of life against his lips. She spun immediately upon hearing his panicked tone, worry and confusion evident on her features as she absorbed his distressed nature. Henry's eyes were red with tears, and his face jaded.

"Henry, what is it? What's wrong?" She matched his voice, terrified that something terrible had happened. He pulled her into his arms, forcing the air from her lungs as he held on so tight. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he breathed in the familiar scent of her. She could feel his heart racing against her, and the moisture of his tears on her neck.

"You're here." He choked.

Elizabeth tried to push him back so that she could see his face, but he squeezed tighter, not allowing any distance between them. She relented a little, wrapping her arms around him, stroking his hair. "Henry, what's going on?" She needed to know what was causing such distress, she couldn't fathom what had induced his strange behaviour. He pulled back a little, looking deep into her worried eyes .

"Don't go. Please don't go."

She shook her head. "Baby, I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't leave me."