The Librarian Notebook (a collection of sketches)

Sight returned first. A pulsing orange glare against a dark blue background. Blurred shapes moved in slow motion across her field of vision. She tried to move her arm to touch one of them, but nothing came of it. No response … no feeling … no pain.
A muffled clang reverberated through her skull, but no sound accompanied it.
A great silver shadow crawled up, blanketing her body before darkness felt once again like a sledgehammer. This time sound was faster than light. A garbled crossing of words, all pushing and shoving to get her attention. The voices were calm, collected and tired.
“… any change from the last report.”
“Her blood pressure has stabilized, but she is still in shock.”
“Do you have an I.D.?”
“Interpol confirmed 3 minutes ago. She’s one of theirs.”
“Fucking hell. Get Helen on the phone. Tell her to call … I don’t know. Tell her we have a dying phr… parahuman on our hands and that the ‘Force need to send someone here. Now!”
“I think she’s coming around.”
“Fuck! Get Mark and Gary. Call the I.C.U., we transfer her as soon as she’s prepped.”
She tried to open her eyes, but the white blinded her.
“What the hell happened to her?” At third wake up call it was smell that greeted Maggie, the pungent, stale aroma of disinfectant, mixed with the background odour of humanity. Her face hitched, but she didn’t move, didn’t even try, she just laid down attempting to navigate the currents of her groggy mind and waiting for the rest of her senses to come back. She kept her eyelids closed hoping to avoid the shock of sudden light, but there was nothing she could do about hearing.
The buzzing sound of distant conversations slowly crawled in her ears. The symphony of blood units, scalpels and sobs seeped in.
‘Focus dammit’ she hissed in her mind, while the eyes started to pulse.
A grating contralto emerged from the background noise: “… is she going to be okay?”
‘Mum?’
“To be brutally honest, I have no clue.” a tired booming voice answered, “Your daughter is a parahuman and that alone is a complication. If she wasn’t … I don’t think she would have made here alive.”
A third gentle voice entered the conversation. “Is that all?”
‘Dad?’
“At the moment yes. We are still waiting for the final results. At the moment she is stable which is already a relief. You can see her if you wish.”
Boots trampled across the tiles floor and Maggie tried to turn, but something was wrong. “M-m-mum?” she muttered with her eyes still closed.
“We’re here.”
She slowly opened her eyes and the neon lights burned like stars. The tall and spindly silhouette of her mother blocked the light, followed by a more squat one. “You got us worried.” her father said between two sighs, his hand lightly caressed her face.
“W-w-water…” Maggie stammered between she cracked lips.
“May I?” her father asked to someone else, out of her field of vision. There was no apparent answer.
Maggie’s vision was still a bit blurred, but she could see he had reddened eyes and dishevel beard. Next to him her mother didn’t look any sharper, her grey hair looked greasy and deep dark bags indicated that she hadn’t slept in a while.
“It’s going to be okay, Maggie.” she whispered holding a hand. It took Maggie several seconds to realize it was hers.
“M-mum. I cannae feel my hand.”