Slowly but surely, I awoke in what resembled an old-fashioned wartime hospital: the bed was comfy however, conveying something rather odd about the faculty. Beside me, was a small table, with an odd slimily liquid enclosed in a peculiar jar. I felt my stomach almost tumble over itself at the thought of me having consumed that vile substance. My first thought, as many others would have been, was where was I?
Given that there appeared to be no one awake in the room, I assumed this to be a dead field of interest for the time being and moved on to more helpful matters: who was I with? I sat up gently, and tried to ignore the little groups of greyish dots forming in my eyes at my mere movement- the dizziness that overcome me. When sight came about, I refocused trying to assess my situation. I knew a couple of the people in the beds beside me, who all seemed to be here on similar conditions. I knew so, because they had the same liquid medicine next to them: in a hospital, I had to assume that it was medicine. I wanted to presume it was medicine…
On the bed to my right, was a blond haired female with a nasty bruise on her cheek and an entirely wind-swept hair look. Her hands looked a little scratched up, and yet in her slumber she was soundly smiling as if she had no idea. The bed to the left had a boy, who I knew to be my friend Lucas, from school, and he seemed to have large bump swelling up on his forehead. Similarly, he was grinning whilst he snored loudly. I checked myself to see which variables may be the same on myself. My hands were a little bruised and upon realisation, my lip felt bashed and beaten. I tapped it a little, for curiosity purposes and it felt fat in comparison to the rest of my lips.
We've all been injured. My friends and I got injured, but I don't remember how. I couldn't see the rest of my face, as there did not seem to be a mirror in close proximity and my legs were weak. How do you forget how you ended up in hospital? At this seemingly low point in my life, I felt in pain and a tad bit moronic- I must have appeared to be a confused lunatic. Perhaps whatever I had been subject to, it had caused amnesia, or memory impairment- or we just got knocked out so badly we didn't really see what happened.
Within seconds, my personal assessment was abruptly concluded by a woman in an apron scurrying around in search of something, only to stop and see me, a lone child sitting up in the bed.
"Good afternoon, Miss Harlow Charter. Pleased to see you looking happy: I am sure you've got some questions," she nodded, whilst fiddling with Lucas' medicine bottle. She was swishing it around and pouring additional purple sludge to the concoction.
"Yes," I responded, admiring the size of this hospital. "Who are you? If you don't mind,"
"Oh no! It's fine, dear, I am Madame Seenks. We will explain things later when your friends wake up. Is it Clancy Barnes, your blonde haired friend?"
For several seconds, I was taking in all the information, trying to make sense of ever little detail. So I am in a hospital, correctly assumed. I am a victim of something and I clearly arrived with these two, as she knows we are friends. So they will also know what happened, at least I have secured a source of information. Her apron looks rather clean, a little blood spatter here and there, but I cannot be certain it is from one of us three. "Yes," I murmured. "Are they okay?"
"Fine, fine." She waved the subject off with her wrinkly hand. Madame Seenks was not elderly as such, but was at the point where he ageing was physically expressed on her skin. "If you could be helpful and take your medicine now, it would save havoc for timings later. If your friends wake up before I next come in, tell them to do the same. It makes things much easier, much easier indeed."
Grudgingly I turned to the liquid and gulped. I knew that this would help me, obviously and as a professional doctor or whatever she called herself, it would definitely be affective. The problem was, was that I knew nothing about what I was consuming or whether she was a professional or not. At this point, after ending up injured in place with no memory or recollection of anything, it probably would be the least worrying action to take, drinking an unknown substance.
With a hearty swig, it got it down. It effectively felt like a snail was lodged in the back of my throat, its shell trapped by my tonsils. Quite a sound analysis really, as it was a sharp after-taste, and felt like it was throbbing as if something was up against it. I could have attempted to speak but it felt as though all attempts would fail miserably.
I felt no better, or worse. Just happier. And lighter.
A shuffling next to me indicated that Clancy was waking up. I knew she would be equally as dazed so I decided a prompt explanation followed by her instructions from Madame Seenks would do the trick.
I threw her a stern, yet concerned look. "Afternoon, clumsy. We're in a hospital, don't ask me anything else. Drink from that flask next to you. It's not anything nice, but it's make your spirits lift."
"What is it?" she asked curiously, her eyebrows arched.
"If I knew, I would've told you." I sighed, sometimes wishing that my friend could see the obviousness of things. Before this happened, I distinctly remember her being rather annoying because of this silly inability to think logically. "I drunk it, I am fine. The woman who told me too works here. Drink,"
Without further questioning, Clancy took it down like a shot and regretted every moment of it. "I shouldn't have done that,"
"Well, I took a sip first. Funny how far logic and consideration goes isn't it?" She seemed unimpressed my remark, but resigned from this emotion as it clearly consumed too much of her remaining energy.
"Harlow, I know you said no questions, but who is the woman who served us?"
"As you asked so carefully, I am happy to tell you it was a nice lady named Madame Seenks. She's small, middle-aged, and seemed in a rush so don't get on her bad side if she walks in." I informed her. Madame Seenks looked in a rush, and since she was also a strange I don't want to provoke her anger or anything! "Don't ask any questions to her either. She wants to wait until me, you and Lucas are awake and by the sounds of it-" We stopped to focus solely on the tuneful grunts coming from our friend's nostrils. "We'll be waiting a while for answers."
An hour or so later, a rather startled Lucas woke up breathing rapidly and clutching his chest, causing Clancy and I to feel sickened with worry.
"Luke," cooed Clancy. "What's wrong?"
"Bad…dream…head…hurts…we...and we were….here? Where…are we?" He choked on his own voice, spluttering about.
"We don't know," said Clancy, running around to her bed to pick up her glass of water. She handed it to him with steady hands. "Drink, you'll feel better,"
Is he allowed to drink that before consuming the medicine? It might have a rule or something-"No!" I shouted. "You have to drink that slimy stuff first. It'll help apparently. Then you can have your water. I don't know whether it will be effective or not if you drink that first. It's not good tasting, but it'll make you feel more happier." My instructions did not seem to comfort him in slightest, his look of horror and complete sacredness indicated such. His breathing slowed with the suddenly very happy presence of Clancy.
"It will!" Clancy said excitedly; her abrupt emotional changes were frequent and irritating to say the least, but it also made her an interesting and fluctuating character, which I thought could be a helpful characteristic one day. "It made me feel like I lost weight! Just healthily: not like, loads or anything," she giggled, pinching the water back and sipping it herself.
"Hey!" Lucas complained before cautiously sipping the concoction beside him. "Not bad. Better than dad's cooking, I'll tell ya that much," The rest of it disappeared in seconds, much to our astonishment. "Wha-?"
"Don't ask questions." I interrupted, monotonously. It felt as though this phrase has been used far too many times today.
Madame Seenks strolled back in, holding the arm of a small boy wearing neatly pressed robes and a red and gold tie, which seemed exceptionally untidy. His face was slightly sooty and his hair was all over the face, strands sticking out wherever possible and his eyes looked glazed over. He was feeling about for direction, which lead to me believes he had been blinded.
Immediately after he stumbled in, my friends were able to point out he was wearing some sort of uniform: the same as everyone else in the hospital, except themselves and those wearing gowns. Many of the other children were waking up know, some of the quieter ones at the other end of the room leaning slightly up reading or writing.
"Oh Jonathan, the amount of times you've been here is ridiculous! How do you always manage to get yourself into a mess?" Seenks told him off in a firm tone of voice, but at the same time, mocking the boy's clumsiness.
She lifted him onto the nearest chair and pulled out a stick and performed some sort of movement and his eyes returned to normal, as far as I could tell. After leaving him with a pot which he began to throw up into, she came over to finally grant our one wish: information.
"So," she sighed, pulling up a chair in front of the beds we sat on. "What do you need to know?"