Started With a Tube

Started With a Tube - Chapter 17

Started With a Tube - Chapter 17

"She doesn't remember," a hushed voice says. It's my mum. I can tell that much. They all talk about me like I'm not here, but I am. It's annoying.

"She doesn't remember him at all?" another voice asks. I don't recognise it - a strong accent tugging on the words - and I'm in no attempt to open my eyes to look. Their conversation is pretty interesting.

"No," mum says and she's crying now.

"But he really wants to see her," the woman says desperately. "He's getting worse, Karen and this is killing him."

"She doesn't know who he is," mum says and I can't help but open my eyes now.

"Know who?" I ask and mum jumps. The woman turns in her plastic chair and her eyes soften with tears when she sees me.

"Cat?" she asks and I swallow.

"Who are you?" I ask and she obviously can't help the single tear that slides down her cheek.

"It's nice to meet you," she says and her voice is strangled and thick. "I'm Anna."

"Hi," I say before turning to my mother. "Mum, I'm hungry."

"The nurses will be in with your food in a few minutes," she tells me. "It's almost four."

"Okay," I say. I look between my mum and Anna. "Do I know you already?"

"Why, do you recognise her?" mum jumps in desperately and I jolt back a bit.

"No, I-I just thought that with the way you were talking and the fact you're in my hospital room that maybe I know you."

"Oh," mum says.

"Yeah," Anna says quietly. "You do know me."

"Anna," mum warns but I tell her to shush.

"Are you one of the people I can't remember?" I ask steadily, trying to not let my voice wobble. Anna nods. "Well, I'm sorry."

"No don't be silly, honey, you have nothing to be sorry for," she says. "It's me who should be sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"I think that's enough for today," mum says, directed mostly at Anna. I furrow my eyebrows and shake my head, staring at Anna.

"No," I say, absolutely frustrated.

"Cat, don't strain yourself," mum says, stroking a hand over my hair. "It's okay if you can't remember."

"Why can't I remember?" I snap. "What am I doing here? How did this happen?"

"You know how," mum says and she's almost crying. "You got hit by a car."

"But how?" I ask. "It was the middle of the night! What was I doing out at that time?"

"I don't know," mum says. "But you were and you're extremely lucky to be here right now."

"Lucky?" And I can't help the tears that flow now. "Mum, I can't walk."

"They said it's only temporary," she defends and I scoff.

"Right, because my legs will suddenly decide to work again."

"That's what they said! It happens, you'll be able after lots of time and physio and strengthening."

"What's the point?" I mutter and a silence falls upon us.

"What?" mum asks.

"What is the point?" I repeat. "Mum I can't remember things! My legs don't work and I've heard what the doctors have been saying. They don't know when or if I'll get my memory back."