Do You Know Indigo?

Chapter Nine

I wasn't ready to open my eyes. My body ached and I couldn't deny the horror that if I moved I would find myself unable to. Yet I tried wriggling my toes, just to check they were all still there. Everything appeared present and working. An unquenchable feeling of gratitude settled in my stomach.

I was alive.

"Will she be OK doctor? I mean there's no brain damage?" a familiar voice questioned.

"She'll be fine after a couple of days. It was a standard fracture that'll repair itself in six weeks. If possible, could you bring her in for a check up in two weeks or so? We need to make sure her arm is mending satisfactorily and she doesn't show signs of brain damage. I think we had an appointment for then anyway."

"Could I sign her cast?" I knew that voice. It made me groan. Perhaps I was dead and this was Hell

"Sure you can," the doctor said, laughing. I opened my eyes. The room was bright, clinical. The faces were blurred and deformed and then my eyes adjusted. If I hadn't been feeling ill already, I was now.

"Hello there, how are you feeling?" the female doctor asked. I simply looked at her with her brunette hair in a bun and bright grey eyes, their beauty hidden by a set of black, square reading glasses. I couldn't help but flinch at the bloody stain on her cuff. Doctor Miranda Collins smiled down at my hospitalised body.

"I feel like I've been hit by a bus," I moaned, wanting the intense lights to be switched off. I tried to turn my face into the pillow to avoid the lights. Dr. Collins allowed herself a melodic laugh.

The good doctor was a certified clinical doctor, therapist and general nuisance. In the beginning I'd wondered if that were possible, to specialise in two professions like she did but here she was - unfortunately.

"It was a car," she corrected, scribbling something on a clipboard.

"It actually hit me?"

"Not really, you just caught the edge of it. Your friend Kieran happened to be nearby and pushed you out of the way. Such a brave young lad and so modest too, won't take any praise." Not like his ego needed it.

"Is he alright?" If he was genuinely Indigo then I was more concerned for the car than him.

"He's fine, the car hardly got him," she reassured. I noted how my body relaxed. Odd. "I expect he'll be back in a second, he went to get your family refreshments, really such a nice young man." Her teeth were pearly white and her broad Scottish accent sharp on my ears. 

"How are you feeling?" Mum said, stroking my hand. Frankly, I felt rubbish.

"She might still be in a state of shock," Dr. Collins explained. Ross was standing at Mum's side, holding a bouquet of flowers. He looked pale and uncomfortable. I'd often wondered if he had a phobia of hospitals, it wasn't uncommon and I'd hardly seen him in one – not even when Gran had been dying or that often after my suicide attempt.

"How long have I been unconscious for?" I asked.

"Two days on and off." Dr Collins said, getting me to sit up right. "Slowly does it. You hit your head quite hard Christine," she informed me. She poured a cup of water.

I noted the red cast on my right arm, a colour not to be missed. Why couldn't I have broken my left arm? I'd have gotten away with skiving classes. Jackson was writing his name carefully on the top of the cast. His tongue poked out as he concentrated.

"Not too big Jack. Other people will want to sign it too you know." Mum said, watching him carefully.

"Doubt it." My remark was received by shaming looks so I decided it was safest to shut up entirely. Dr. Collins raised the plastic cup to my lips and placed a paper towel under my chin. As I drank my throat was soothed. I hadn't noticed it had ached.