This is my first story so please no flames and I am definitely open to constructive criticism. I know this kind of story has been done before and if anyone thinks I've stolen their idea I'm sorry, I promise you I did not. Also, I just wanna say now that I don't know much about a lot of things (cars, medical stuff, etc.) so don't blame me if I get facts wrong.
Nurse POV
"Why is he being restrained?" Dr. Martinez asks me.
"He's shown violent tendencies toward the doctors and nurses. We can't risk him hurting anyone else," I tell her. Looking back at the young boy restrained one the bed I'm hit with a wave of sadness again.
The boy is 15, I believe, and has black hair and olive toned skin. Right now he looks fairly peaceful, but that's only because he's sedated. With the sheet pulled up to just a little above his waist you can see the multiple bandages on his arms and the one covering a cut near his neck. His has many bruises, all in various states of healing, along with the fresh bruise on his face and the cut on his cheek. When the EMTs arrived he was in bad shape. He's still in bad shape, physically and mentally. He's obviously been abused for a long time. In all my years of being a nurse at Mercy Hospital I've never seen a child abused this badly.
"How's he healing?" Dr. Martinez cuts into my thoughts.
"As well as expected. He's only been here a few days and he was in really bad shape when he got here. You should be able to take him home in a couple days though."
The boy looks out of place in the bright whiteness of the hospital room. You can tell he's one for darker settings.
"Good," Dr. Martinez says. "When is he expected to wake up? I'd like to talk to him"
"The sedative should wear off soon, but if you want to talk to him I'll probably have to give him a relaxant," I say. "He doesn't listen much, or if he does he doesn't show any signs of it."
"Well, let me try before you give him the relaxant. I want to make him feel comfortable."
"Whatever you say Val. Just don't be too hopeful," I warn.
"I won't. I assume he already knows about his family?"
"Yes. They were gone before we even got there. Well, not the father, but I was told he died on the way here."
I don't know all the facts, but from what I've heard the boy and his father got into a fight and his mother and younger sister were killed. The boy had managed to hurt his father badly but at the same time his father hurt him pretty bad too. A neighbor called 911.
Beside us on the bed the boy begins to stir, groaning softly. His eyelids flutter a bit then snap open. He instantly starts struggling against the restraints but his face remains impassive.
Dr. Martinez sits on the chair next to his bed. Softly and gently she says, "Nicholas-"
"Fang," the boy says slowly, his voice raw and raspy. That's the only thing I've heard him say since he got here.
"What?" Dr. Martinez asks.
He doesn't answer, just looks at her, still straining against the restraints.
"Fang? Is that what you call yourself?"
He takes his time to answer, like he's debating whether to answer or just ignore her. After a couple minutes he nods slowly.
"If you can calm down and promise to cooperate with the doctors they'll take the restrains off," Dr. Martinez says gently.
He stops his struggles but shakes his head.
"What? Fang, why won't you talk?"
He shakes his head again and points at the chart I'm holding. It's his chart actually. His name is Nicholas Dante, but apparently he goes by Fang.
"You want to see your chart?" I ask.
He shakes his head slowly and looks like he's writing something in the air.
"Kelly, take the restraints off and get me paper," Dr. Martinez orders.
"What? You don't have the authority for that," I say. Dr. Martinez is the town vet, not a doctor at the hospital.
"Trust me Kelly, he's not going to try anything."
If it were anyone else I wouldn't, but Valencia Martinez is the exception. She has 5 adopted children, along with one of her own, who have all lost family. So, placing my trust in her, I remove the restraints from the boy and hand him the chart and pen with a fresh piece of paper.
"Why do you keep fighting the doctors?" Valencia asks.
I don't like them touching me, Fang writes.
"Oh. It's just a few more days. If you just cooperate it'll make everything easier and faster."
That's what they all say. They all lie, he writes and looks away.
Both Val and I blink, having no clue what he's talking about.
Deciding not to press the issue, Val says, "Once you're released from the hospital you'll be coming to live with me. I'm adopting you. You'll be living with 6 other children, 2 that are your age, 2 that are 12, one is 8 and one is 6. Is that ok?"
Fang shrugs like he really doesn't care what happens to him now.
So how was it? Please review, It'll be good for my self-esteem.