The Human Experiment (bxbxb)

Who Am I?

"Has anything changed with him?"

"Not much, Doctor. He seems to be more stable today, but there's no sign of him waking up or a change in brain activity."

He felt something cold press against his chest. It moved around a few times, then disappeared. His head throbbed from a headache he'd felt since earlier in the day, but no matter how much he tried, he just couldn't get his eyes to open or his body to move.

"He was severely anemic when he came in so it's good that his body is accepting the transfusions. I just wish we had a darn name on him so we could find his parents. I have no idea how they couldn't be looking for him."

Someone grabbed his wrist and turned it over, removing something that felt like a needle before wiping it down with something wet and rewrapping it in some type of bandage.

"He should have enough blood now to be out of the woods. Please let me know if anything changes."

"I will."

His mind began to grow dark again even as he tried to force his eyes open. Eventually he just let it take him away back into sleep, too tired to fight.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been out, but when he was finally able to break free of the sleep weighing his mind down, he managed to open his eyes. It wasn't much and they were really blurry, but he did notice something move quickly around where he was lying and hit something on the wall by the door.

"Doctor Oren to room twelve please."

A light turned on above the door, and not a moment later, a man rushed in with a clipboard in his hand and a pen between his teeth. He quickly grabbed the pen and shoved it in one of the big pockets on his white coat, then began firing questions at him as the woman, who he could now see somewhat-clearly, removed a plastic mask from over his mouth and nose.

"Hello, welcome back. How are you feeling? What's your name?"

He blinked and tried to move his hands, but they wouldn't obey. The doctor tried a few more questions, then figured out he wasn't getting a verbal answer and grabbed a piece of paper. A minute later, he was holding it up so that he could see what he'd written on it.

"Blink once if yes. Twice if no. Understand?"

He blinked once, slowly, and the doctor smiled. "Alright, good." He set the paper down on a small table that wheeled around, likely to hold food trays or shot syringes, and began to write. When he lifted it back up, he read what he had written.

"Do you remember what happened?"

He blinked twice, and the doctor frowned, then wrote something else and held it up.

"Are you over eighteen?"

He had to think for a moment about that, but then blinked twice. When the doctor went back to writing, he tried to flex his fingers. It took a minute to get a response, but it was a huge relief when he finally did. The doctor holding up another message stole his focus for a moment, and he narrowed his eyes on the words as he tried to read them clearly.

"You were found in the local park with your throat slit. Do you have any idea who could have wanted to hurt you?"

He blinked twice, his stomach quickly twisting into knots at what the doctor had written. I was found in a park? He could barely remember anything, not his school, his family, his name. He had a feeling it started with an S or an R, but he just couldn't put his finger on what it was. He was beginning to freak out when the paper was put in front of him again, forcing him to look at it.