Only Yours

44

William's P.O.V

I don't know where I am.

Well.

I'm in a hospital, in a bed. I'm lying down and I'm looking at the ceiling but I don't recognise it. It's too bright and my chest and head are aching.

My head is aching horribly.

A voice from nearby makes me sit up and I wince at the movement, a fresh throb of pain shooting through my skull and up my chest. Something next to me is beeping and a nurse runs over and gently guides me back down. 'Here, love.' She says. 'Use this button to push you up. You're not strong enough yet.'

It sounds like she's patronising me and I'm about to open my mouth to say so but a low, female voice next to me says, 'Sorry, sorry, it's my fault. I excited him.'

I don't recognise the voice but I make the bed go up anyway.

And instinctively I jerk backwards.

Gathered around my bed are people, four adults, two children and a little kid. I don't recognise any of them and they're scaring me, being this close.

'Oh, God, Will, thank God, oh God.' A small man with grey/blonde hair says. I look at him and something n my brain whispers,
married, gay, four children, left handed, one dog, night out, hasn't slept for three days.

It's a little scary but quite cool that my brain's doing that.

'Good to have you back, nephew mine. We certainly missed you.' The taller man leaning on an umbrella smirks.
Divorced, gay, seven children, affair, government, botox. My brain mutters.

'Nice to have you back, weirdo.' Teenage boy, fifteen.
Trying to act indifferent, Gay, twin, cuts, two suicide attempts, plays rugby.

'Oh Will, oh I've missed you.' Teenage girl, fifteen, brown hair.
popular, boyfriend, virgin, washed hair yesterday, emotional, period.

'I don't know who you are.' A five year old boy with thick, curly hair and big blue eyes says bluntly. I want to tell him I don't know who he is either but my brain stops me, murmuring model, haircut recently, adverts, small man's favourite.

'William.' This man, with his dark curly hair and blue eyes, brings a memory forward in my head but it disappears before I can remember him.
Gay, married to small man, detective, shaved recently, sex three days ago, brother of botox man.

And finally the girl who spoke steps forwards.

I feel the same weird feeling as I did with the curly haired man, as if I should know her, but the memory is just out of reach. She has long blonde hair and blue eyes, long eyelashes, fairly tall, and she runs over to me, throws her arms out and says, 'Will, thank God, oh Will, I've missed you-'

I jerk away.

Everyone in the room freezes.

'I'm not Will.' I say. My voice sounds panicky but I don't care because suddenly I realise I can't remember anything. Nothing at all before now. I can tell I'm in my late teens to early twenties by the depth of my voice and the size of my penis against my trousers? Pyjamas? But nothing else. Nothing. At. All.

The curly-haired man's smile has dropped off his face.

'Will, this isn't funny-' the small man starts.

'I'm not joking. What's happened?' I'm starting to get worried. Who are these people and why are they with me?

What's happening?

They've huddled together at the far side of the room. I hear words like, 'Explosion' and 'Botulinum', 'Antidote' and 'Joseph'.

Joseph.