Voiceless

Chapter Eight

I wake up with a jolt. My vision is initially blurred, but clears up quickly. I take a slow look at my surroundings. The first thing I notice is the slight pinch of an I.V. in my arm. As soon as I recognize this, it is ripped out of my body and flung away. Then I wrinkle my nose at the sterile-scented air. That's what draws me to the dawning realization that I am in a hospital.

I hate hospitals. They smell so clean, and yet so many people die brutal deaths within their walls; it is where family members must receive the heartbreaking news of their loved ones' passing. It's where my little brother was dragged out of in a body bag. Hospitals are where life's dreams crawl to die.

I hear footsteps come down the hallway and to my area. Then a head comes around, and my doctor is standing before me. Dr. Davis is about Grandmother's age, a balding man with intelligent green eyes behind his spectacles. He looks at his watch.

"Well, Vera, it's five o'clock. I'm glad you managed to make it to your appointment on time, even under the circumstances." His voice is crisp. Then he looks at my arm, which has blood dripping down it, and the dangling I. V. He frowns and shakes his head, but I doubt he expected any different. So he bandages it and talks to me about random things, presumably to get my mind off of the blood.

Why am I here? I sign, getting to the point. I like my doctor well enough, but I have no patience for small talk.

"Well, it seems you had quite the fall. You had a slight hemorrhaging in your brain, but it was nothing to worry about. You should be fine, but I want you to watch out for symptoms." He doesn't give me a list, because I know every last one. This isn't my first rodeo with head trauma.

Where's my grandmother? I interrogate him further.

"She's right outside, Vera." He assures me. "However, I wanted to ask you some questions first."

Hooray, a questionnaire. Just what I need.

Dr. Davis sees the expression on my face and smiles. "It won't take but a minute. Now, I know you are an incredibly careful person. I've seen this often enough, and it leads me to wonder how you could just fall down the steps." He rubs his head in thought. I bite my lip; I know what he's preparing to ask. "Have the memories come back?"

I sigh deeply. I had confided in Dr. Davis about a year and a half ago, telling him about my flashbacks. Some of them were benevolent, like playing in the garden. Others, like my more recent one, were violent. All of them involved Gavin.

I nod. My doctor places his hand underneath his chin, thinking. I know it bothers him, the fact that he doesn't understand why I have sudden memories of my brother thrust themselves upon my conscience. But I don't know either, so I'm at a loss to help him. He pulls out his laptop and types something.

"Which one was it?"

The one with the vase.

I haven't had a new one in a long, long time. For that I am grateful; I don't need the extra twist of not knowing what's coming next. Suddenly a knocking ensues at the door, and my Grandmother bursts in before receiving an answer. "Vera! Are you alright? What happened? Is it-" She bites her lip. "Is it cancer?"

I roll my eyes and smile. It's rare to see my grandmother in an emotional state. Dr. Davis gets up to reassure Grandmother.

"It's not cancer, Edith. She just fell down the steps, that's all. Now, she does have a little hemorrhaging, so-" My grandmother cries out at the word "hemorrhaging."

"Oh, God, she's dying! What kind of a doctor are you, trying to tell me that she's fine when she's obviously on her deathbed! Look at her, she's so pale!" I look down at my white arm, which hasn't grown tanner since the day I was born.

I'm always pale. I feel fine.

Grandmother ignores me. She's hysterical for some time, but eventually the doctor calms her down and discharges me from the hospital. By that time, I'm relieved and ready to go home. When we do finally arrive home, Grandmother fusses over me for a bit before ordering me to bed. I gladly consent, and run up to my room to plop down onto my bed.

Strangely enough, I cannot sleep. I toss and I turn, but rest continues to evade me until I give up. And as usual, I start to think. I wonder if Haley will realize how strange I am and ignore me, wonder how I'll be able to show Grandmother how healthy I am without even being able to maintain a normal human relationship.

But the thing I wonder about the most is why I have all of these memories I don't want haunting me, but the one I do want to remember is hidden. The memory from after the accident, where there's a huge black hole instead of a scene.

I can remember the pain, the truck's horn...I can even remember my head smashing through the window. But the memory directly following that is being at the hospital. This perpetually torments me because the hospital staff told me I should remember.

Because the thing is...they found me conscious.