Read Uncovering You 9: Liberation for Free Online Page B

away from the sounds, away from the laughter, away from the mirth. Shapes and figures seem to rise out of the walls and leap at me. I open my mouth to scream, but no sound comes out.
    I’m frantic. I’m dizzy. I’m scared. This reaction—my reaction—is not normal. Far from it. I don’t know what’s going on, if it’s the alcohol or the brain damage or the utter unpredictability of my environment that has me raving internally like a lunatic.
    “Lilly?”
    A voice in the distance. A voice in the darkness. A voice that comes and pulls me up out of my blackened orb of despair.
    I stop, turn around. I hear the voice again, though I cannot focus on its source.
    “Lilly, are you okay?
    Footsteps. Coming toward me. My eyes can see. I’m not blind. But my brain refuses to attach meaning to the imagery. But hear? I can hear. I can hear just fine.
    I cling to that capacity like a drowning woman to a floating device.
    “Lilly. Jesus! What’s going on? Help! Somebody get help!”
    I’m horizontal. Lying on something hard. Did I fall?
    “Lilly, you must hold on. Hold on. It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay. Help! Goddammit! Somebody help me!”
    Hands. Hands on me. Hands touching me. Hands holding my arms.
    “Help! Help!”
    The cries are becoming frenetic.
    Why? There’s nothing wrong.
    I feel a tranquil peace slide over me. Those hands…they’ll keep me safe. Won’t they?
    More footsteps. Rushing close. I can feel their thud on the ground. I am on the floor.
    How did I get here?
    “…I don’t know. I just found her like this. All on her own, yes…”
    It’s that first voice again. The panic has subdued but not cast away. There’s a familiarity to that voice. Something that tells me I should know it.
    And then, from out of the mist, my vision clears, and I see the scene clearly before me.
    Tracy, my blonde-haired neighbor. Tracy is leaning over me. There, a man by her side. Somebody I don’t recognize. She’s holding both my arms, and looks to be close to panic.
    I frown. “I’m okay.” I mouth the words. There is no voice attached. “I’m okay,” I try again. This time, it’s precious more than a whisper. “I’m okay,” I say once more. Finally, the words leave my lips as I intend them to.
    Tracy blinks, and looks down at me. I push myself up. I am half-seated on the floor, with my legs tucked under me.
    “What happened?” I ask. I get the uncanny sensation that either hours have passed—or no time at all.
    There are people running down the hall. I see them all. I don’t want them to see me like this. “Help me up,” I mutter.
    Tracy moves to obey in an instant. She slides an arm under my shoulder. Together, we rise.
    “Jeremy,” I hear someone saying. “We have to get Jeremy!”
    “No, no. I’m all right,” I say. “I slipped. That’s all.”
    Tracy looks at me in disbelief. Then I catch a change in her eyes. Understanding .
    “I’ve got her,” she says. “I saw what happened. She really did just fall.”
    “We heard you calling for help,” a man counters.
    “I panicked. Overreacted.” She forces a laugh. “I thought she might have hit her head and passed out.”
    I feel a multitude of eyes on me. I feel them watching, waiting. Judging.
    “It’s these damned heels,” I mumble. “Men have really got to stop insisting that we wear them.”
    The tension breaks. A few people laugh. Others turn away, realizing this really was nothing more than a false alarm.
    But Tracy, holding me tight, whispers, “You’re not getting away from so easily.”
    ***
    She and I find a quiet room in which to discuss what happened.
    “I saw you leaving before I got a chance to say hello,” she tells me. “So I went after you. I heard you talking to someone. I thought there was a man around the corner. But, when I got closer, you were alone.”
    I shake my head. “I don’t remember any of it,” I say weakly.
    Tracy looks at me in disbelief. Her expression is mixed with a