It was dark and cold and I was crying, sobbing like a little kid. I was a kid.
Wherever I was, all I knew was that I was supposedly alone and it was in the middle of the night. I couldn't hear anything not until the sound of something rolling and grinding against the concrete floor brought me to open my eyes and I was back at the mansion-our mansion.
I didn't know it could be possible. Unless it was a dream.
I was convinced then as I saw the back of a woman with golden strands of hair following suite towards her silhouette that blocked the light from the grand and enormous double doors that it was a dream. It was a nightmare.
I felt my feet trembling along with my knees that shook in longing to sprint and ran after her. But the sight got me frozen in place. I wanted to call out to her. Reach out my arms to stop her. But I couldn't.
The stars outside were dancing. But to me it felt like they were agonizing tears from the sky that pitied me and so they granted me the chance to make a wish. Yet before I could wish for anything, I was back in the cold black once more... and then I woke up.
I thought that was the worst that could happen; a dream I never had for a long time coming back. A nightmare.
Now that I'm back to reality, I'm starting to think that the worst isn't just one thing but my whole life packaged as a promo. Should I cheer for that?
The sight of an unconscious man felt too real and nonfictional that it took me half of a precious hour to realize that I wasn't asleep anymore. I pinched myself five times before I convinced my anxious head that I needed to do something, pronto.
"Can you hear me?" I called out to the stranger lying just a few feet away from the hole that I first saw as I woke up. It didn't look like it was created using shovel. If it did, that shovel sure is big. But no, the smell of burnt rock and the visible wisps of smoke showed evidence that it wasn't just regular digging. The dirt looked like it was incinerated. Almost like melting rocks from a volcanic eruption.
I called out again for the second time, still not taking a move to get any closer. I know it's stupid to be shouting here like a madman when I know he's not even conscious. But I just couldn't take a step and go to where he was. He could be anyone. Maybe even a lunatic.
But my conscience took over as I've gotten not even a faint grunt. It was my fear lodging in too as the idea of a person dying on me just because I was having second thoughts slapped me hurt in the gut. I sprinted, almost tripping into the rocks I couldn't see because it was dark, crouching when I was near enough to check on him. His clothes were filthy and smelled like it was set on fire. Fortunately, and strangely enough, I didn't see any marks to tell me that he got burned.
I immediately searched for a pulse, which I'm glad was still there. He's still breathing, his chest going in an up and down motion, though slowly and barely enough.
"This is not good."
I took my phone out and dialed 911, my fingers trembling. I have never been in this kind of situation in all my entire years of living in this planet. It made me wish that I could've just gone home after work and then I wouldn't be out here in a panic.
But without me here, who would tend to this person? What'll happen to him?
After a few beeps, someone finally answered the call making me erase all the thoughts of ever altering the timeline. There's no time for that.
"Hello," my words began to stumble. "Please help, there's an unconscious man here!" I wanted to pour out all the things I wanted to say but a huge gap made by the panic ran to me and I bit my tongue as a result.
"Could you give me the details miss?" an inpatient voice said on the line. It sounded groggy, like the person who's talking has just woken up from his sleep. "Where are you exactly?"
"By the town's border," I managed to say beneath my inner panic. "Please, I really think he needs help." Obviously. He's like dead or something, or worse!
"We'll be right there," was what he said before ending the call. I sighed as I heard the line cutting off. I was so relieved even. But it only took a second before everything went downhill for my nerves once more as I waited almost half an hour before anyone came. Totally off mark from what they initially promised.
The mobile of the police got to to see us first. It wasn't really helpful since they don't want to move the body without knowing what kind of complications he might have.
The four of us, me and three officers, just stood there; me staring at the lifeless looking body, and them trying to investigate on the scene. They saw the crater like hole, did a little nodding with each other here and there, but they didn't spare a quick glance at the victim.
I don't know if they were stupid or something, but anyone could have really died with how they were moving so slow and so ignorantly. If I wasn't clueless about first aid, I might have gotten on to it and just perform the procedures without them. Maybe even drive the man to the hospital myself. But then I don't have a car.
A few more minutes and finally the medics came to respond. The blaring lights of red and blue blinded me and made me remember that I was here all alone in the edge of town and it's midnight and I might as well be that man getting moved by a stretcher by one of the rescuers. A shiver ran down to my spine as I too a few steps back and searched for the perfect time to slip away and forget that this has ever happened.
Looking left to right, I prepared for a sprint. Only to be cut short by the voice of the police who I assumed to be the person who talked to me on the phone. He looked like he was ready to pass out in boredom. "Got a minute?"
I ended up being hoisted into the ambulance before I could protest. Not like I was even allowed to. It had something to do about the police (and the doctors too, I think) on about asking me information on how I winded up in this mess. I don't want to conclude that they suspect me of doing anything I wouldn't have, but that's how they looked at me as I sat there, dumbly staring out the window.
I wasn't really up to any sort of interrogation and I was tired as they were as well. But I convinced myself that it didn't matter and it'll also be good for my conscience if I would be able to know if I didn't end up killing the boy-I-still-don't-recognize because I was too slow. For the most part though, I can't help but to scold myself at how I stared at his perfectly toned muscles. He's totally in danger, and yet I couldn't get it off my head. It makes me sound like a pervert, and that's all in the wrong moment.
The ambulance brought us here in the nearest hospital. It's a building downtown and so it took longer before the doctors had a thorough examination, rushing the stretcher towards the emergency room.
The nurse assured that he's not in much danger, squeezing my hand as we moved swiftly to their facility. I smiled and said thank you while stopping myself from commenting that I don't need any moral support cause I don't even know the guy. I guess I should still be grateful because unlike what I feared, there's still no person who died on me. I sighed in relief and realized as I was looking out at the sky that the meteor shower has ended. I didn't even have time to look at it that much.
I was left to hang in the waiting area, the police officer in front of me when we arrived. If he wasn't what he is, I might have rolled my eyes at every question. They're all dumb and stupid!
"Are you sure he's not your boyfriend?" he asked like it's something I don't know, tapping his shoe on the floor. He's been asking me that this whole time.
Do I even look like I know him? I mean sure, he's definitely hot and well cute, honestly cute, but there's no way I would date someone I don't even know!
"He's not," was my reply instead. I already explained all the real actual details to him, but he wouldn't believe me. He thought I was lying and maybe I was there breaking up (or hooking up, which is disgusting) with that guy like how most problematic teenagers do. But I'm not even a rebellious kind of girl! Not in that kind at least.
He sighed. I might have sighed along with him. Good thing it was over. I really want to go home.
Except that I didn't get to go home.
I got stuck in the hospital looking after a person I shouldn't have. I should be sleeping in my room right now and thinking about the worst things Fiona might say to me at work, not this. But since I was the one who saw him and helped him get here, I might as well take responsibility before he wakes up.
I was forced, kind of, by the nurses to stay with him. That doesn't make sense, but I just went with the flow. I just hope that this would end soon and I would just have to endure a not so normal summer, with all the step family and bully drama.
I opened the door of room five, the one the police officer directed before he left, and there I saw a woman facing her back at me, her hair in a neat bun, dressed in an all white outfit.
When she heard the door creak, she glanced at me and smiled. "I think he hit his head and now he has a concussion. He should be waking up first thing in the morning."
I nodded. She left the room before I could say anything else.
It was a relief to know that I wouldn't have to deal with a dead man before I turned a legal age. I know it's weird but I just don't want to remember any corpses in my teenage life. Unless of course it was of someone named Fiona along with her goons.
But the doctor forgot to tell me one tiny little problem. It took a whole night before I even realized it.
And then, morning came as soon as I fell asleep.
---
I was on my way out to buy something for breakfast, maybe some bread and a cup of coffee, when he unexpectedly woke up. By he, I meant the patient that I unexpectedly got the opportunity to take care of.
He twitched his eyelids and mouth a bit before finally opening them at the same time. "Where am I?" our patient asked.
"You're in the hospital," I said. It's surprising that my voice didn't sound awkward. "The doctor said you hit your head on something, or maybe something hit your head, and so you now have a concussion and you might probably suffer a little more of a headache... but the point is! You shouldn't really move that much."
I spoke to soon. Of course I'll end up rambling. Is it just me or is it getting hot in here? Or am I seeing things and he's the one getting hotter?
He looked at me, confused. I thought it had something to do with the way I explained the situation, but his response told me otherwise. "What's a hospital?"
And that just left me speechless. I shifted my weight on one foot to the other, tugging my shirt down as I made a sense with what he just asked.
"Umm," I started, "the hospital? Like the place you get admitted to when you're sick?"
He stared again, his emerald orbs fixed at me. I gulped, waiting for him to nod, yet he didn't.
We stayed like that for a whole minute, me waiting for his response and him trying to make a sense of what I said.
As I stood there and did nothing else but look at him, I saw the features I never got to check out last night.
His hair is silky and a gold looking blonde that was messy enough to be considered as a bird's nest, and yet it wouldn't seem like it if you pair it with his whole face; the perfect jawline and pointed nose and that innocent looking yet manly green eyes. I didn't even know someone could be manly and innocent at the same time.
But his head-his head is messed up.
I tore my gaze away from him, then let out a fake laugh. "I think I'm going to head along and buy us food. Is bread okay for you?"
From confused to ultra confused, that's what happened to his face. His forehead wrinkled and he tilted his head a little to the side. "Bread?" he echoed.
I sighed. This isn't going to work. What the heck did I just got into?
"Bread it is."
I turned my back, trying not to be obvious that I was about to bolt in full speed away from him. Closing the door behind me, I clutched my head with both hands. It felt heavy and I was seriously curious whether I was the one who got her head injured.
He's insane! His thoughts are all over the place. Who doesn't even know bread? Even a toddler knows what a bread is, much less the hospital! And another thing. Any sane person wouldn't tilt his head to the side just to act all clueless and cute. He did look absolutely cute actually, but that's not the problem here!
As I randomly chose a direction to take a carefree stroll out of all of this, I fortunately saw Dr. Ramirez. She was the doctor whom I saw as I entered the room last night. I saw her name tag just before she left and the name just kinda stuck because I figured it would really be convenient.
I hurried along to catch her. I called her out and luckily, she stopped walking and faced me, that same tight smile on her face.
"Is there a problem?" she asked. She studied me and smiled some more before continuing. "Is he awake now?"
I fiddled with my fingers behind my back. "Uh," I started then coughed for a second as I fixed the words on what I should say. "Is amnesia possible for him?" It was blunt and without any more pauses, skipping over her questions to answer it with another question. It was a shock more to me than to her as I said it as tactless as I could get.
But then Dr. Ramirez was already on to check him out, me left off to stare at an afterimage that I thought was still her. I didn't know anyone can move that fast.
Funny. There's a lot of things happening right now that I didn't know before. I'm starting to believe that it's just normal now.
I came back to the room just as I've noticed that I wasn't talking to anyone, no bread in tow and still hungry. But my hunger can wait. What I need are answers.
What's wrong with that guy? Who is he? What's going to happen now? Why am I even here?!
As the questions continued to pour, I stood there by the doorway, staring at what the doctor was doing while keeping myself out of their view. She kept on talking, probably asking questions. I would've been relieved at the thought that Dr. Ramirez might be able to fix this for me, but seeing the psycho give not even a nod or a slight jerk of a head left me with a grave face. It was not until the the tired looking doctor sighed and asked him one last thing that he finally bobbed his head, though reluctantly. It made me even troubled for some reason that I can't explain.
"Is everything okay?" I asked as soon as she left the room and closed the door behind her.
"This is not what I expected," Dr. Ramirez blurted out, perhaps forgetting that I am even here. She wiped the sweat that was on her forehead as she spoke. "The injury must have been severe so there was no doubt that a slight memory loss could happen. But I never thought it would be to this extent," she continued, talking to herself.
Judging by the way she looked, exhausted and worn out even if she didn't run a marathon and there was air-conditioning in the whole building, I knew at once that everything was just bad. I didn't understand a thing from what she said, probably because I was feeling a little lightheaded, but I immediately caught up with that message.
She shook her head and eyed me with a pitiful look. Why though?
"I'm going to apologize in advance," she added. "His condition would require attention and patience, but as much as I like to help him, that is beyond what we can do to. We also do not cover the expenses from the prior treatment."
"Which means?" I asked when she paused and looked at me again. I feel like we're going in circles.
What she said next sent her voice in max volume that I thought I was going deaf. If I knew it was all going down that road, I would've run away in the middle of the night. Then perhaps this story wouldn't have to exist.
"We would like you take it from here." She smiled. I stood there, stunned. It was a start of a whole hurricane for the rest of my summer vacation.