Lost Love

2. Unfamiliar Faces

Pain.

Throbbing, ear splitting, horrible, horrible pain. My eyes feel heavy. My head is throbbing. What is wrong with me?

‘Mummy,’ I mumble, my voice croaky and rough, as if razors are cutting against my throat. ‘Mummy?’ I squawk out, but I can’t lift my head off of the pillow and my eyes are being blinded by bright, harsh lights from above. I blink my eyes a few times, trying to wake up, but it hurts. They’re crusty and heavy.

Instinctively, I drag my hand up to rub my head, but am met with soft material. Is that, bandages? Touching them a little more, I realise that thick bandages are covering my head and hair. Begging my eyes to open for the final time, I blink a few times, taking in my surroundings. My eyes drop down to my hand where a drip is inserted into the back of my right hand and I begin to panic. Why are there bandages on my head? Why have I got a drip in my hand? What’s wrong with me? And why am I in so much pain?

‘She’s awake! Courtney, she’s awake!’ I hear a low voice cry out, making my head throd more. Panicking, I look to my side and see this man desperately leaning into my face, clasping at my left hand and trying to pull me towards him.

‘GET AWAY FROM ME!’ I scream, tears flooding from my eyes. Immediately, I push the man away, making no impact at all because I feel so weak. ‘I want my Mummy!’ I cry helplessly, watching as he steps back away from me.  

The man, with wavy brown hair, porcelain but tanned skin and deep bluey green eyes, looks perplexed as I call out for my Mum. I want my Mum. I really want my Mum. So why is he just standing here doing nothing?

‘Where am I?’ I mope aloud, but no one is in the room but the man is still standing on the side of the room, looking at me in utter confusion.

He walks towards me, running his hand through his head as he says, ‘Immy, it’s me, it’s Ozzy.’

I stare blankly back at him. That means nothing to me. 

Within moments, a man in a white coat rushes into the room with an older woman trailing behind him, who cries upon seeing me. Again, she leans forward, desperately wanting to hug and kiss me. God, what is it with these people?

‘Who are you people?’ I exclaim in panic. ‘I just want my Mummy. Get away from me! Now!’

‘She doesn’t remember,’ the man says to the woman, his voice breaking half way. I glance across at him, his face etched in pain as he looks at the woman.

Slumping back on the bed, the man in a white coat try to gain my attention, but I’m distracted. Where am I? I place my hands on my chest and gawp. Oh my God, since when did I have such large breasts? Squeezing them, my mouth parts. What the hell is going on here?

‘Oh my God!’ I cry, but am spoken over by the man in front of me. ‘Hello, I’m Doctor Rutherford. You’ve been admitted to All Saints Hospital. Can I ask you a few questions?’

Unsurely, I nod my head, but that sends a shooting pain to my forehead. Squinting, I rest my hand against my head. ‘My head really hurts.’

He nods and asks softly, ‘It will do. Tell me, can you remember your name?’

 ‘Imogen. My name is Imogen, but where’s my Mum? What has happened to me? Why am I here?’ I ask, verging on desperate. ‘My head really hurts, Doctor,' I repeat, my head continuing to pound in pain. 

He fiddles about with something beside my bed and says, ‘I’ve just given you a little more pain relief. It’ll take the edge off of the pain for now. So Imogen, can you tell me what is the last thing you remember?’