Am I dead? I felt weightless, maybe I did die. I pressed a hand to my forehead, testing to see if I still had a physical body, and boy did I.
With the touch of my hand, my senses came flooding back, causing my whole body to ache. My chest especially began to hurt. Ugh. I shouldn't have done that.
I opened my eyes just a sliver at first, then all the way. I didn't see a dark gray alley with rain collecting between black brick tiles, as I thought I would. Instead I saw bright white. White walls, white ceiling and floor, white curtains, white beds. I must be in a hospital, I figured. Even a guy dressed in all white stood at my bedside. Wait, what?
"Hello." he said with a small smile and a British accent. I gave a tiny, confused smile back. "I bet you're confused, right?"
I nodded.
"Well that makes two of us." he told me, "The doctors have been puzzled ever since you showed up here two months ago. Can you tell me your name?"
Wait... Two months ago? I've been here for two months? I gripped the soft white bed sheets in my hands, struggling to sit up straight. He wants to know my name? What's my name?
...I don't know.
At least, that's what I would've told him... If I could speak. My mouth formed the words, but no sound came out. I-I can't speak.
What's happening to me? I tried to ask him. Help me, Doctor.
He put his hand on my shoulder and crouched, bringing himself down to eye level with me, trying to calm me down. It worked a little bit. I searched his tan face, trying to find answers. I stared into his inviting dark green eyes that strands of black hair tried to cover.
"It's okay." he said. "It'll be fine. We know your name. We we're just testing to see how much you knew yourself. The thing is though, that's the only thing we know. Your name is Imogen."
My eyes never broke it's connection with his. He was the only thing keeping me from melting down right now. My name is Imogen. That sounds right. There was reassurance in knowing what my name was.
I opened my mouth, trying to figure out which question to ask first, 'Where am I? Who am I? Who are you? Why am I here? What happened to me?' but I slowly shut my mouth, remembering that my voice didn't work.
Thank god the doctor seemed to realize this, he took his hand away from my shoulder and pointed to a night stand by my bed. On top of it was a stack of memos and a blue pen. "Speak with those." he told me.
What happened to my voice? I wrote out on the top memo, in terrible handwriting. I peeled it off the stack and handed it to him.
His eyes scanned the sticky note and he pressed a finger to his lips for a second, thinking. "Well, to simply put it... A few of your ribs broke, and one... well. One of your broken ribs impaled a lung." he said, trying to put it as gently as possible. I think.
I made a horrified face.
No wonder my chest hurt when I woke up. But, hey, they obviously fixed the problem if I'm still alive right now. I told myself.
"The voice loss should be temporary, but in the mean time you should keep the memos around you. And work on your handwriting." he gave a chuckle.
I blushed, embarrassed. What happened to me? I wrote.
"We have no idea. We had an anonymous call about a girl who was bleeding badly and we rushed on over. You were unconscious and alone."
Alone. The word echoed through my mind. I didn't know if I had any friends or family. I can't remember anyone. The only person I knew was this doctor, and barely. Might as well make the best of it.
What's your name?
"Peter." he said. Peter. It sounded perfect in his British accent.
Peter, I smiled, loving the way his name looked in my crappy handwriting, when am I allowed to leave the hospital?
"Considering the fact that you've been in a coma for two months, I'd say you've had plenty of time to recover from injury and plenty of beauty sleep." he smiled, "You can leave tomorrow if you'd like, but you have to stay tonight."
I smiled back at him. Great. I put my memos and pen back on the nightstand, ready for use in the morning.
Peter moved around my bed and towards the door. Before he left he paused for a second, stopped and at the last moment gave me a goodbye wave. I waved good night back to him even though he had already left. I smiled to myself, happy to had survived whatever I had survived two months ago.
I didn't sleep that night. I'd had enough sleep to last me a lifetime...
