I was annoyed at the sound of the constant beeping that continued to grow louder with each second. I loathed the sound that hadn't seemed to stop, and when I woke up, I tried to move my hands around me to search for the cause of it in hopes that I could silence it, but I let out a surprised gasp when I felt a sharp pain piercing my upper arm and back. Tears wallowed in my eyes as I fluttered them open to flinch when the sharp rays of the light in the room blinded them.
I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion when I looked around the room and took in its details. The heart-monitoring machine and the drip that was beside me informed me that I was in some type of hospital or recovery room. I believed that it was the latter, as the room hadn't had the characteristics that a usual hospital room would have; it didn't have the horrible smell of chemicals that seemed to gag you or the sound of the usual squeal of the wheels of the hospital beds as nurses rushed to take the patient to the operation room so that they could save the life that was close to getting away.
The room that I was in was much too quiet and bland in design to be a hospital room. It was much like the rooms of those who lived in psychiatric hospitals. The lack of colour in the extremely white room depressed me, andI hadn't known how to handle it. Seeing the light reflecting through each white tile in the room made me wish to fall asleep once more, but it would be impossible to do so until I figured out where I was and the reason why I wasn't placed in the usual hospital room.
"Hello!" I shouted and placed my hand on my neck as I suffered from a severe hoarse throat. “Hello, is anyone there?” I asked once more, looking around for any sign of a person or a doctor who could relay the details of my condition. “Ma, dad!” I exclaimed once more and huffed when I heard no response. “What is going on?” I whispered to myself as I banged the back of my head against the pillow.
Something wasn't right; I could feel the dreadful feeling seeping through my gut. Although I should have been overjoyed that no one has tended to me as of yet due to the greater possibility that I was placed in an unknown area that my father tried so desperately to save me from, I still continued to shout for help as I held onto the faith that one good person would walk through the door and inform me that everything would be okay. I screamed until I could feel blood travelling down my hroat. I nneeded water and some painkillers.
My parents were wealthy enough to afford a family doctor and a dedicated medical room, but I knew that this room wasn't the room in our home because of the lack of sight of my parents and doctor McGregor. I cleared my throat and looked around my body, taking in the many bandages and casts that covered almost every surface of my body. I was hurt beyond comprehension and gasped when I remembered the accident that we were involved in. The tumbling ambulance, the young man, my wounded father, and the gunshot.
It felt surreal to remember every detail—the way my thick blood trickled down my body and covered the surface that I was on—and the lack of movement from the further damage to my body. I remember the man that pulled me out of the ambulance—his baggy jeans, cartoon shirt, and cap—who sat in such a manner that you couldn't see his face until he allowed you to. He had a tattoo that was decorated on his right arm. It seemed like some type of skull tattoo, but I couldn't decipher its true design as it was covered in blood.
The words that he said at that time continued to ring through my mind. I was wondering what was about to happen. What had he meant that we were more difficult than what he had thought? It was mind-boggling that it was all done deliberately, but I wondered who sent him to do such a thing. I knew it was some type of errand, as we hadn't known the man at all, and we had only seen him for the first time when he opened the door and pulled us out. Who thought he was going to threaten us in such a manner?
I laid my head back and stared at the ceiling. I closed my eyes so that I could enjoy the breeze from the vent flowing onto my face and dry the sweat that began to accumulate due to my worries about my situation. I froze when I heard the familiar ring of a telephone and looked around, searching for the place where it was situated. I wondered how I hadnt found the telephone when I had just woken up. I thought I had done a thorough check, but it seemed as if I was wrong.
I turned my body towards the other side of the room, searching for the object that disturbed my peace, and laughed when I saw the white telephone on the table that was placed right beside me. I looked at my arms in frustration as I couldn't use them to reach the phone and pick up the ringing phone as my hands were stuck in casts. I shuffled towards the telephone, and when I was close enough, I locked my teeth around the phone, pulled it off of the receiver, and threw it onto my lap.
“Darlin’, it's good to see you awake.” I wanted to thrash around in frustration when I heard the daunting man. I had tried countless ways to make him leave me alone, and there was just something that made him come back to me and find me. It was like he always knew where we were and what we were planning.
“How did you find me?” I seethed as I gritted my teeth, trying with all of my energy to not thrash around and give him a few words that I had in mind.
“Is that the way that you treat your saviour? Wow, Lorna, a little thank you would do great wonders,” he taunted and then chuckled.
“You're not anyone's saviour. I have seen what you have done; there is nothing in the world that would make me believe that you spent your day trying to save me. You're the one who caused that accident; I know you did, so don't act all high and mighty and demand things from me."
“You’re a bit feisty today; I like it,” he said as he chuckled. “Although I was the one who sent my rookies to cause that small accident, I still believe that you owe me an apology and some gratitude.” I rolled my eyes at the statement. Of course he would feel that way, as it seemed that he was more 'special' than those in the psychiatric hospitals. “Well, you see. I was informed just before you left that you were being transferred to another hospital. A hospital that was further away than I would have liked. I didn't like that you made a decision so rashly without even thinking about me. I just shared that I wanted to start my life with you, have children, and make history, and you dare to continue to run away."
“I ran away because I didn't want you. I would never marry a murderer, even if you brought all of the world's jewels to my feet,” I said as I curled my fists, angry that he dared to speak about something so vile.
“When I found out about the news, I was really mad. I was going to send a missile to that ambulance and your family members' homes and just wipe out the whole lineage. It would be great, wouldn't it be?” My heart pounded harshly against my chest as I thought of the possibility of his statement being true. “I had to calm down, of course. I don't want to get married to pieces of flesh; it would be unappetizing to kiss and have sex with you in such a manner. I thought to have something more light; since you are fragile, I thought it would be best to have the car topple over and give you a few more bruises.
“You are a sick man,” I screamed as I curled my fingers into my palms. “You don't treat people's lives so lightly. I don't know when I'm going to get out of here, but when I do, I'll be sure to put you behind bars and have men treat you like you have treated us.” I huffed when he let out a loud laugh and complimented me on the fact that I could share jokes at such a time.
“Pray, Lorna; the Lord has shown that he has his eyes on you. You've lived another day, but you won't know if your next time will be as lucky. Pray, Lorna, pray as the devil and an angel are going to make their moves."
