It was cold and damp. The ground beneath me was rough and felt like tiny shards of glass cutting into my skin as I tried desperately to move my body. I needed to hide, but I didn’t know why. I couldn’t remember where I was or why. I tried to open my eyes and my body shivered at the slight breeze that ran across my entire body. Where was my clothes? A blue and red flashing light stung and made my eyes water. It felt like every bone was shattered inside me, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get away
Shadows came toward me and one touched my neck.
“Help me.” I remember trying to say before I lifted and placed on a long hard board.
Nothing worked. Not my hand as I tried and failed to lift it or my legs that I wanted to kick out and run away on. And then my eyes shut as I gave up trying to get away.
Every time I opened my eyes all I could see were sterile white walls and glaring lights. Dark shadows passed by me but I was unable to comprehend any of it. My chest rose and fell quicker and quicker as I fought to make sense of where I was . It hurt too much and my brain was muddled. I went to sleep again and again. Each time my eyes closed felt shorter till my they opened again. Several days later my sticky eyes peeled themselves open and I was determined to stay conscious this time. Although I was groggy I recognised I was no longer in the dark place I remembered lying in begging for my life. The people in white coats informed me that I had been the victim of a suspected gang incitation attack. I was on the mend for the most part but my leg had been broken in several places which could leave me with a permanent limp. Only time and a lot of physiotherapy would tell if I would be able to walk again without a walking aid. My memory was something that was also left uncertain. A hard blow to my temple had meant I could not remember a single thing about myself or my life.
I was introduced to a man claiming to be my father. He was built like a Roman gladiator with dark features that might intimidate had I had enough strength to even be scared. His black hair showed no resemblance to the lighter brown that rested permanently below the shoulders of my hospital gown. My father had come for me he said, once the authorities had reached him across the other side of the country. What I was doing so far from home I couldn’t recall which left everybody frustrated. The confusion left a stomach churning knot growing in my stomach.
I was given a set of crutches to try to walk on once I regained my strength. My father was wary of too many people fussing over me that he took it upon himself to guide me as I walked the corridors trying to build myself up to going back home.
“What’s our home like Dad?” I had asked.
He looked at me a little dumbfounded as if he was not use to hearing the title.
“You will see when we get you the hell out of here.” He grunted.
He was always alert and watching who was around us when we ventured outside of my hospital room. I hated being indoors. The sun on my face was the only familiar thing I could remember but being outside made him anxious.
“Do I have any brothers or sisters?”
“No.”
That was the extent of any conversation I tried to have, they never really answered any of my question or helped me understand where I came from.
By the end of the week my father had enough of this place pushed for doctors to release me. I was nervous about leaving but I was assured that familiar surroundings would be helpful to recovering my memory. My father held a steady hand on my lower back as I got used to my crutches. He rarely spoke to me or touched me which made me question what type of relationship we had before all of this had happened. I held my breath as I exited through the sliding glass doors of Mercy hospital. The sun beat down and caused a small sweat to break across my forehead and down my back. My heartbeat picked up and I felt my his hand rubbing soft soothing circles on my back while my eyes looked all around me expecting to see the people who had done this to me wanting to finish me off.
I pulled myself up into the black jeep waiting at the entrance. The cream interior had a rich feel to it and was surprisingly cool considering the heat outside. A dark skinned middle aged man, my uncle, sat in the driver’s seat and turned to smile at me before greeting my father as he seated himself in the passenger side.
“Frank, get us the hell out of here.” My father spoke to him.
It was the most I had ever heard him say at one time. The curt nod from my Uncle Frank told me this was not the time to beg for either of them to crawl in the back with me and hold me so I wouldn’t break down. My body was tired but my mind was broken.
I couldn’t remember Uncle Frank, his slightly red tinged cheeks or his balding black hair. He seemed much older than my father, who I knew even less about. What did my house look like? The empty feeling I the back of my head brought tears to my eyes and made my frustration grow further. I didn’t trust myself to speak without my voice breaking.
Not a word was uttered and the scary silence in the jeep made me feel like my leaving hospital was a lot more serious than I thought. I told myself my father was just upset I had left home. He had told doctors I had ran away from home after a family row that got out of control. I had gotten myself into a shit storm of trouble but I was in remotely one piece. Surely my close brush with the Reaper himself was enough for him to forgive me, to love me and want to bring me home to whoever waited there for us.
The situation made me uneasy. With eagle eyes both men kept a more than vigilant watch on the road ahead and the green scenery either side. The knot in my stomach pulled and tightened the further I got away from the hospital and the town I was found in. The silence in the car soon caused me to drift off as we made steady progress across the motorway.
I could only imagine where I would wake up and what would be waiting for me therey imagine where I would wake up and what would be waiting for me there. Would I ever remember....
