Defective

Chapter 3

My head throbs with the beat of my heart. I am lying on the elevator floor breathing deeply, having just escaped the gorgeous dark haired man. Too deeply I realise. There's not enough air in here I think; I can't find the air to breathe. I feel as though there's some sort of creature inside my lungs, fighting to break through my ribs. As the floor reaches my ward's floor I try to let out a last scream for help, my chest heaving in and out like a rusty steal pipe creaking loudly before it finally crumbles. I fall to the floor just in time to see the door opening and pairs of feet running towards me as my eyelids flutter shut. The pain in my chest is all I can feel.

When I wake up, I am back in my hospital appointed bedroom. The early morning light outside shines through my curtains filling the room with a soft, yellow glow. However as I go to rub the sleepiness out of my eyes I realise my hands are strapped down to the bed with bandages. I push myself to try sit up without them but my head feels heavy, groggy, as though I've been chewing on a dozen tranquillisers.

"Whoa there, princess!" Comes a voice. Who is that?

Slowly Abe's concerned face comes into frame as he gently pushes my chest back down to the bed. I look up at him in confusion. Why is he here? What happened to me? My head jerks side to side in confusion as Abe reaches to push a button above my head. 

After the male nurse helps me to a sip of water, the world slowly stops spinning just in time for Dr Keffler to enter the room.  "Good morning, Coby" she starts, "It's nice to see you've come around."

I go to ask her what's happening but my mouth won't move. I can't move my tongue. Why can't I talk? She looks at me observing the panicked look in my eyes. Walking over to my bedsit, she fiddles with the nob on what I now realise is a drip attached to me. "So tell me the last thing you remember if you can." Abe sits looking worried on a plastic chair in the corner.

I stare at her blankly. My tongue is like lead and it's leaving a horrible taste in my mouth. Pulling the bed up so I am somewhat closer to sitting, she explains calmly, "It's okay if you can't. 4 days ago you decided to take a little trip down to the ER department to see your friend here as usual. Something triggered you into a full blown panic attack which unfortunately caused a chain reaction with your asthma forcing you to pass out from the stress. The medicine we used to revive you appears to have had an averse effect with your current treatment mix meaning we had to take you off it temporarily for a day or two. For the last 3 days you have been in a manic depressive state which would explain the current lack of memory."

My mouth opens slightly giving me a slightly surprised expression. Dr Keffler has an expectant look on her face, as if waiting to see what I think of the situation. How are you supposed to tell someone you can't speak without speaking? Silence falls over the room for a few minutes as I stare at my lap, avoiding eye contact.

Abe and Dr Keffler exchange glances.

"It's come to my attention that you are due to be transferred to a new room on floor 9. Tomorrow morning, I will send a nurse and porter to help you move your belongings." She deflected. Something wasn't right, floor 9 was for the richest of the rich patients. My adoptive parents were relatively wealthy but they rarely visited and would never fork out for such a level of care. A nurse came in to untie my wrists and as I rubbed the stiff joints, I gestured with my hand for a pencil to write with.

I could feel their eyes following my hand as I scrawled 'WHY?' onto the notepad from Abe's backpack. More concerned and slightly confused looks were exchanged before the Doctor explained that the room change was actually an upgrade. I gestured at the word once more, over-lining the question mark with my pen for emphasis, my eyebrows furrowed.

"Listen Coby," Abe reasoned, "A generous benefactor has kindly given you the opportunity to receive the best possible care in the hospital. You know what they say, never look a gift horse in the mouth."

I grimaced slightly, wondering who the mysterious benefactor might be, before giving a nod of recognition to Dr Keffler. 

"Right, oaky-dokey you two, I'll see you after lunch." Dr Keffler says as she finishes scribbling on her clipboard before leaving it hanging on the end of the bed.

As the door shuts behind her, Abe slowly approaches me and sits slightly on the furthest edge of the bed despite my dubious glances. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, dark bags hanging underneath his eyes.

'Fine. You look terrible.' I scrawl, not thinking properly.

"Thanks," he chuckles as he notices me biting my lip, "listen, I have someone I want you to meet. I've known him since I was knee-high, he's a really good guy. I think you'll like him," he pleads as I already begin to shake my head. I'm a freak, what sort of sicko wants to go out with a mental case?

"You could just be friends, you don't even have to meet him right now but just please, please consider it." he begs, a strained look in his eyes. Once he sticks out his bottom lip, I reluctantly concede, scribbling 'This Afternoon just as Friends' on the notepad. He lets out a triumphant smiles before pulling his phone out to text what must be my life story (although hopefully not) to the poor guy.

I still feel quite tired for most of the morning despite only doing 2 Where's Wally? puzzles with Abe. I felt bad about stealing one of his few off days this week and told him so, only to be laughed off. My head is slowly becoming clearer and clearer as I struggle to remember what triggered my panic attack. Abe seems to know more than he lets on when I ask him about it but his lips are sealed.