Prolog
"Kim!..., Kim!..., are you ok". The words seem to echo off the inside of my skull. My head feels like a freight train is running through (or possibly over) it and at least one car has its break stuck on. "Somebody get the nurse" the voice is insistent, almost panicky. My back is cold and wet, and I'm really not very comfortable. "Don't move her she may be hurt" wait I think she's talking about me. Everything is so dark, why is it dark. Hmm, ok either I'm suddenly blind, or my eyes are closed. Let's start there.
Let's see…eyes. I know they should be attached to my face somewhere. I groan, Nope, that was the mouth. Let's try that again just a little higher (Wow my thought seem to be just scattered everywhere). Ok, found them. Now what. Need to get them open (It's an effort). Wow, the light hurts my eyes. "Ow." It feels like someone is driving daggers into them and twisting. "Did anyone get the license of that truck?" they laugh it is weak but relieved. They think I'm kidding. "What happened?" I struggle to sit up. With a little help, I finally get to a sitting position. The sudden change in altitude causes my head to spin, and I wish the guy with the hammer would lay off.
"We were heading back to the dorm after the Chem final, and you collapsed on the stairs." Stacie still looks worried. My head hurts and my Italian really isn't that good anyway, but I think I got most of what she said.
I look around and sure enough, I'm at the bottom of a staircase outside the science building, and my books are scattered halfway across the courtyard. Silently I take inventory of my body, something I have perfected with some speed over the years. I can identify each bounce by the ache and pain. "That's going to leave a mark" Shaking my head in to clear it turns out to be a particularly bad idea and getting up without help isn't going to happen anytime soon. "Someone give me a hand. We're drawing a crowd." Antonio, the big hunk of a guy that every girl on campus lusts after (he's dating the men's fútbol Center and has fantastic fashion sense) reaches down and scoops me up like I am a rag doll and heads for the infirmary. As I start to protest, he glares (it's enough to make even an uninjured girl to swoon) at me, and the words die on my lips.
Someone opens the door for us letting us into the air-conditioned room, instantly chilling me right through the wet clothes to the bone though it's probably not all that cold. The cramping muscles and shivers aren't helping my injuries any, and I kinda lose track of what's going on as everything becomes a blur.
When I come to myself again, I'm trapped unable to move, 'don't panic and assess the situation. Bright lights, health sighs on the walls. The infirmary'. I start to relax "I feel like a mummy." I mumble becoming fully aware of my surroundings again. I am bundled up in several blankets and have an I.V. tube disappearing under them "What happened?"
The nurse looks up. "You suffered from an acute case of electrolyte imbalance. Feeling any better?" She checks me over feeling my head, testing my temp and flashing a light in my eyes.
I close my eyes. "So, I went in to shock." I take a deep breath. "That's not like me." I stare at the lights and sigh.
"How have you been feeling lately?" the question jars me out of my reverie.
I consider the question for several moments "Well I have been getting increasingly tired over the past few weeks, but that's just end of term and finals. Other than that, I've felt fine." Even as I say it I know, it's not true. I have been having a hard time focusing, losing track of thoughts and conversations. Physically I'm also having problems. Just climbing the stairs to my room tires me. Granted that it's on the seventh floor, but still, that should be nothing for me.
"I think you might be suffering from anemia. I've drawn some blood and sent it to the lab. I don't think you have done any permanent damage in your fall, you will be sore for a few days and may have a minor concussion. Now go home and get some rest. You still have two days of finals." I groan and head for my room supported by my friends'. I still need to study for tomorrows finals.
xXxX
"Ugh, that was awful. How do you do it? You had twice the classes as the rest of us" We all laugh as Lexie complains, but truth be told the wear on me is excessive I don't think I could handle another day like this. I put on a brave face, but this is starting to concern me allot. What happened to the globe-trotting hero? Was that really only a year ago?
"Well, it's over for the year. No more classes no more books no more teacher's dirty looks" they all laugh lucky for me they understand just enough English; the rhyme really doesn't translate well "I need to run past the infirmary. My test results Should be back by now. See ya back at the dorm." they wave as we split up to our separate locations
The medical building was once a church and is always foreboding even at the best of times. Many people say it's just gloomy. Me I just try to avoid it altogether, hospitals always give me the creeps. As I enter, the nurse is helping a few students suffering from finals syndrome. She catches sight of me "Ah, Mrs. Possible. Please, over here," she says, guiding me into her office. "Please sit." She pulls my chart out of a pile on her desk. "The iron in your blood is fine, but the lab found significant deterioration in your blood cells. They had no speculation as to the cause but said it looked like cells from someone in their seventh decade or so." It took a few moments for her words to register. I sat there stunned as she continued. "I know you are going home for the summer break. I want you to get with your doctor and have a full work up done. Maybe even bring in a specialist. I will make sure that your primary physician gets these records" She pauses noticing my deer in the headlights look. "Will you be ok getting back to your dorm or would you like some help?" I just waved her off and left. I wandered for some time not really going anywhere before finally returning to my dorm room to finish packing for the trip home. I try not to think about it but fail miserably.
xXxX
When my roommate brought it up I had initially declined the invitation to the end of year dorm bash. I wasn't a big party girl. Sure, I had tasted wine and champagne a few times, but I had avoided the bash type parties, it just wasn't me. But I didn't want to be alone tonight, and my roommates were going with or without me.
I do not recommend bad news and a beer bash combo, especially as a (mostly) virgin drinker. I'm nineteen, not even legal drinking age at home. In Italy, if you can reach the bar, you're old enough. I remember arriving at the Party, my first drink and maybe my second. The rest is a blur. The next thing I remember is waking up in my bed, alone (thank the gods and whatever roommate was responsible). The pain in my head was, well, for lack of a better word, astonishing. The fact that I was awakened by the scream of my alarm clock didn't help. Getting up I realized the shirt I was in was not mine and my bra was missing (Not a good sign). I forced myself to get up and shower, it did make me feel a little better. After getting dressed, I left the room. My bra and shirt were folded and laid outside my door (that bra was expensive). By ten o'clock I had made my way the Milan airport checking in for the twelve-hour flight back to Middleton and home, at least I was in first class and can sleep on the Flight (and the airline supplies aspirin).
XxXx
There is a knock on the door as startling as it is precise. "Come." The Voice from the paper covered desk a command. The door opens, and the agent enters, Uniform showing the military precision that Global Justice would be known for if anyone actually knew of their existence. Not looking up from her work she signals him to report.
"We have a report from our agent in Milan." Shuffling forward he extends a sealed envelope. "It's marked 'Eyes Only.'" Dr. Director looks up and points to a stack of papers at the corner of her desk. Placing the envelope on the stack, the agent nods in salute and exits to return to his duty's.
The moment the door closes Dr. Director grabs the envelope and tears it open, scanning the documents enclosed, face falling. "Damn it. Why now?" She reaches over to the intercom. "Agent Du, please report to the director's office." In moments the spit-shined agent appears slipping silently through the office door "Thank you, I need a priority courier dispatched to Middleton immediately." She re-reads the Report again, then quickly prepares a package, addresses it to its recipient, and sends it on its way. Less than an hour later the packet arrives at Middleton General Hospital onto the desk of world-renowned surgeon Dr. Ann Possible, who would find it after returning from lunch.