Her Name is Tilly

2: It

I arrived at the hospital at 11:02PM. The clock on the wall of the Emergency Room read that as I was rushed in. The hospital staff scrambled hearing everything the EMTs had to say as the doors closed behind us. I laid there blinking away at the bright lights and watched them. They grunted as they all lifted me up at once and moved me to a hospital gurney instead of the one I was on in the ambulance.

"Sir," A lady wearing a lab coat and a stethoscope around her neck shined a light in my eye. "Can you hear me?" I nodded as she looked away from me and began ordering the people around her. Her earrings dangled as she spoke reflecting light into my face. She looked back down to me and said, "My name is Dr. Arian and I'm going to be taking care of you." The other two people in the room pushed up the sides of my gurney after putting an IV in my arm. I felt dazed as they pushed me through a series of hallways.

"What's your name?" A tall, lanky looking fellow wearing light blue scrubs asked. He had been scribbling down notes in a small, pocket sized notebook and trailing on the right side of my bed. His glasses began slipping down his nose. "We're gonna need to know you're name, sir" He said a bit more urgently this time.

I slowly lifted my hand taking the oxygen mask off enough for me to say a few words. "Jonah Rider," I coughed tasting metal. "Spelled how it sounds. Blood type is O neg. And I'm allergic to Lidocaine." I rasped out before putting the mask back on.

The doctor and, what I assume to be, two nurses looked at each other nodding with quizzical looks on their faces. The pushed me into a room to give me a Cat-scan. Considering the fact that they rushed me here instead of checking out my other injuries gave me the sense something serious was going on. They stood behind a window looking at me and a group of computers in front of them. The machine shifted and whirred around me. I closed my eyes feeling like I was in a coffin. My feet dangled out of it, I was too tall.

They took me out and dragged me down to the ICU with the same nurses. Glasses and pipsqueak. Pipsqueak stood to my left side trailing along barely talking but quite observant. The room they put me in was a small and bland looking one that mirrored the rest of the hospital. They lifted up my shirt and squirted a jelly onto it. My eyes were closed until they burst open and I sat straight up.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck.." I wheezed at the sudden pain and ripped off the mask.

"Sir," Glasses said. "You're going to need to lay back so we can finish examining you." His hands were up and he had a look of fear in his eyes.

I looked down at my leg in something I've seen before. It wasn't casted but they put it in a stabilizer. "No," I replied. They did that at games when some people got hit a little too hard and couldn't get up. That was usually with screaming and snap but here I laid—sat relatively relaxed. This wasn't going to be something I could just walk off. My eyes widened at the realization.

"You have a lot of artificial injuries that we need to take care of." The girl said to me now.

"What's wrong with me?"

"We don't know so you need to lay back down and we can figure that out." Glasses took charge slowly nudging my chest down. "Do you have someone we can call?"

"What hospital am I at?" I ignored the question asking my own because, well, who would I call? My mom? All she would do is worry. Coach wouldn't answer at this time. My teammates were all probably hammered and, to be honest, I wasn't exactly Mr. Popular. I couldn't spare the time.

"St. Agregous." Pipsqueak interjected.

"Shit..." I mumbled. Suddenly feeling everything. My head was clearing up but I couldn't tell why everything hurt the way it did.