Amnesia

4

Ryan felt firm hands lifting him from the taxi. The pavement felt cold against his bare feet. Supported by the slender frame of Dr. Cooper, Ryan stumbled down a deserted alley. The dawn air rustled, uncomfortably blowing his hospital gown.
Ryan felt as if he was underwater, attempting to crawl through a dimly lit world. Izzy Roper dragged him towards a building with surprising strength.
"Stairs," she said, pushing him towards a side entrance of the building. Ryan tugged on the railing and trudged dizzily up the stairs.

Once they reached the top of the landing, Dr. Cooper selected a combination of numbers onto a rusty lock and with a click, the door swung open.
The apartment was tidy, the air hinting at a battle between a wood-pine scented candle and a musty carpet. The furniture and artwork were cheap and looked like the kind of accessories you would find at a boot fair.
Dr. Cooper hesitated for a moment and then led Ryan towards the kitchen. Ryan moved towards a chair in hope of sitting down but Dr. Cooper redirected him to the sink. She carefully removed the bandage and examined his arm.
"We have to call someone, Dr. Cooper. The police, anyone!" Ryan said, anxiously.
"You'll live," Dr. Cooper said as she released his arm, "And you don't have to call me Dr. Cooper - my name is Izzy"
Ryan nodded. "Thanks, my name is Ryan."
Izzy told him to look away.
"It's fine, I'm not bothered by..." Before Ryan could finish his sentence, she started scrubbing his arm with disinfectant. Wincing, Ryan fought the urge to pull his arm away. Izzy slowly increased the force behind each scrub. It seemed a full 15 seconds before Ryan couldn't take the pain any longer.
"Good." She said, "Hopefully, that won't get infected." Izzy then applied a small bandage to the red raw wound, making Ryan clench his jaw. She turned to him.
"Just clean yourself up. You can't face the authorities in a hospital gown and anyway, I have a neighbour about your size. I'm feeding his dog so he owes me." She winked and
left the apartment.

Ryan dug to the bottom of his memory for recollection. He saw only emptiness. All he knew was that he was in Florence, with people out to kill him.
He discarded his bloody gown and stepped into the limited space of the bathroom. After washing cool water over his face, he carefully touched the stitches on the back of his head. The skin was sore, but when he pushed his matted hair over the patch, the injury became almost invisible. He could feel the cool water counteracting the sedatives, beginning to lift the mist.
The windowless bathroom was starting to feel claustrophobic so Ryan stepped into the hall, moving towards natural light that spilled through the one window. Ryan pressed his head against the cold glass. The March air was cold and crisp, amplifying the sunlight that spilled over the hills and red tiled roofs.

He awoke to the sound of a door shutting. Izzy was back. He straightened and turned round, a smile on his face.
"I'll leave the clothes in the bathroom." She said, carefully placing the folded clothes on a cabinet next to the sink.
After Ryan disappeared into the bathroom, the phone rang. Letting it ring for a while, Izzy reluctantly picked it up.
"Hello?" She enquired.
"Izzy, eez Maria. Where are you? Your friend Dr. Taylor, he dead! The police, they after you! They want up you to come down to the hospital! Hospital is craaazy! The police..." The line was cut off.
Izzy walked tiredly towards the modest bedroom. Collapsing against the door, she started sobbing uncontrollably. She cried for Dr. Taylor. She cried for Ryan Hanson. But most of all, she cried for herself.