AMNESIAC

Chapter two

As the clouds moved in the sky, kissed into brilliant white by the first rays of the sun, Agatha Andrés hurried her steps in the neglected streets that caused her feet to ache. She could still hear the cries of the children, the sobs of women and the lamentations of the elders. Her first year as a nurse wasn't as easy as she had expected it to be. It doesn't pay well, she thought, but at least, I can afford a livable apartment. After eighteen hours awake looking after the patients, she needed a hot relaxing shower. She already imagined herself under the water, welcoming the pebbles of cool water caressing her skin.

Una ducha suena muy bien. She thought smiling.

Agatha smiled as she kept daydreaming about her promising shower as she turned left were stood the lone, aged building she had lived in for four months. Overtime the bricks had weakened; the paint wore off and layers of dust coated all over it. The building surely looked aged. Yet, Agatha loved living in there. Once she reached the main entrance and was pulling out her keys, she took a look at the corner as usual to make sure nobody was hiding in there, with a knife or a pistol in his hand, patiently biding his time before attacking her. She had more than once the misfortune of living this experience.

However, her eyes caught something and she had almost yelped, her eyes widened and her body started shaking. What put her in this terrified estate wasn't because of some homeless, drunken burglar; but because of the rigid body that was lying on the dirty ground. Because of the pre-dawn darkness, Agatha could hardly pick details of the silhouette, but she was certain the person was soaked in its own blood.

¿Debo ayudarlo? ¿Pero y si se tratara de un asesinato? ¿Que debería hacer?

As Agatha was debating with herself whether she should help him out or not, she started taking cautious steps toward the lifeless body. Standing a few inches away from it, Agatha could recognize a girl. Her hands were white, tightly gripping a gun; but the rest of her body was limp; even her greasy auburn hair hung limp around her shoulders hiding her features as it fell all over her face. Her body was covered in blood from head to toe and for a moment, Agatha thought the girl was dead.

She was about to take her phone and call the police when the girl started shifting. Without wasting a second, Agatha knelt beside her, lifted her hair and gasped when she saw the girl's face.

All the slaughtered faces and bodies she had seen in the hospital weren't as horrendous as this girl's. Her bloodshot eyes were wide open; but Agatha wasn't sure the girl was aware of her presence. Blood gushed with sickening determination from her noise, mouth and forehead. In some places, the blood was thick and scarlet; in others it was dried and turned to a brownish color.

The girl wanted to speak, but only muffled sounds came out of her bruised lips. Agatha felt as the girl was suffocating with her own blood.

The nurse kept looking at the girl's wounded body, her gaze moving from an injury to another. She had noticed that there were more than three holes in her abdomen and thighs. It was a total mess, as if she had been hit with more than two different kinds of weapon at once. There were the usual dark red holes that oozed thickly, but also hundreds of different tiny wounds – like shrapnel.

Agatha thought of taking her immediately to the hospital, but then again, the girl had a gun; and God only knows who had wanted her as blemish as this.

Taking her phone, she dialed her brother's number and within half an hour, the injured girl was lying on Agatha's bed.

"Are you sure you want to keep her?" Anthony Andrés asked, "did you see her head? It's split open for Heaven's sake."

"It's alright, I'm going to take care of her," she reassured him with a small smile.

"How? You are a nurse not a doctor," cried her brother.

"I am more than aware of that Anthony. That's why, I'm going to call Dr Arcelio to come and heal her," she smiled, "he's a good doctor and I trust him."

"Why don't you just take her to the hospital? You don't even know her. She could be a killer for all I know!"

"Didn't you see her condition? Some sick people did that to her. Do you think they won't come and look for her at the hospital?"

"And what if they come here? You will be just like her... or worse."

"Anthony," Agatha let an exasperated sigh leave her mouth, "I'm an adult, and I take the full responsibility of my actions. Thank you for helping me bringing her in here."

Anthony got his sister's message: she didn't need him anymore and she will be grateful if he could leave her by herself with this stranger.

After her brother had left her apartment mumbling a "Dios mío" under his breath, Agatha quickly called Dr Arcelio and explained to him the situation. She was relieved to know that he was on his way.

While waiting for the doctor, Agatha started cleaning the stranger's wounds. The wounds in the thighs, stomach, chest and back were very deep. Agatha knew for sure that cleaning them up would cause the girl an agonizing pain. But she seemed falling deep in her sleep. If it weren't to all the dried brownish blood in her face, the injured girl seemed peaceful. As if the world finally let her rest in peace after forcing her to carry its weight on her shoulders.

When the Doctor had finally arrived, he was at first astonished at the horrible estate of the patient and argued Agatha to take her to the hospital where she could have a full medical attention. But the nurse succeeded convincing him to let her stay.

"How can even a person survive this?" He demanded bewildered, "either she is blessed or she is highly trained to survive this kind of injury."

"All I know is that she is lucky that I am the one that had found her. Imagine if it was a gangster, a drug dealer, or worse, the twisted people who did this to her." The nurse said looking at the sleeping girl worriedly.