Dear Readers! After watching the finale of SoA I couldn't help but act up on this idea that was forming for a long time in my mind. This is just a short intro that I hope you're going to enjoy and is going to get you interested in my story.
I apologize for the mistakes I made as some of you may know English isn't my first language.
Thank you for reading. Please leave a feedback if you have the time. Good, or bad, everything is appreciated.
Slowly, I was coming out of the darkness. My mind had difficulties processing the light that welcomed me as I opened my eyes. Everything was white, so bright I felt that I was blinded by it. There was a constent beeping sound coming from the background that I couldn't place just yet. I moved my eyes around, gradually realizing that I was in a hospital room.
My brain was looking for information, memories desperately. My breathing turned heavy as second by second the terror of not knowing why I was here took over me. I heard the monitor next to me signing my heartbeating getting quicker and quicker as I tried to remember who I was and realized that I was lost. I knew nothing. The one single thing I could recall was a gentle voice talking to me quietly, in a constent pace like they were reading. It was like her words were caressing me softly.
I saw a blonde woman passing by the door with light but confident steps before nurses and a young doctor entered the room, welcoming me back to life. I had no chance to ask questions; they quickly checked my results, and then filled me in. I'd been hit by a truck while riding a bike. They said I was a real fighter, that anyone else would have been dead in the moment they met the vehicle. The doctors had feared I'd never wake up again as a result of the head injury I suffered by the crash.
They weren't able to tell me if I'd ever get my memories back though. I got no ID on me so they couldn't help me with finding out who I was. According to them I should feel lucky that I got away with no permanent damages in my body. With my mind I knew they were right, and I should be happy that I was alive. Then why did I feel like the weight of the world was on my shoulders? Why did I feel like darkness was surrounding me like a beast hiding under the surface? Why did I feel like there was a hole in my chest so deep there was no bottom of it?
When the nurses and the doctor left I was left alone again. The silence weight down on me as if I were strangled by an invisible force of nature. Did everyone feel like this when they dealt with amnesia? Was that the cause of my uneasiness? Or was it something that I hid from myself, and once I dag deep enough it was all going to crash down on me?
I stared at the white ceiling above me, forced myself to try to remember who I was. Was I a good man? Did I have kids, family, a wife? Anyone who was missing me? Anyone who was determined to find me? Or was I a man whose disappearance mattered to no one? Was I someone cursed with lonliness? Was I someone who people loved or hated? Would I ever figure the answer out for these questions? Did I even want to?
I was about to enter the room of the hospital's latest John Doe when I saw the man who laid there for weeks unconcious slowly opening his eyes. I let out a sigh of relief as I started towards the nurses station without stopping.
I let Jenny know that the biker was coming around so they could go and do what was to be done these times. For a moment I was stalling there, not certain if I should go or stay. Never before I had to contemplate this question. I couldn't tell what made this man different from all the others who I visited through the years.
It was always easy for me. I was by the side of those men and women who had no family, or friends to wait for them to come back to life. I was there right until the moment they woke up and then I left without them even realizing they weren't alone during those hours, or days when being comatose. I didn't need people thinking that I was a good person. I wasn't. I saw things no one should see, and those things turned me into a savage. I was a cold blooded monster who killed without any second thought.
The reason why I preferred the company of unconscious people over the ones being aware of my presence was that I wasn't threatened by getting attached to them. I knew too well where that would lead. It would just bring more sorrow and pain for them and for me too. Still, first time in the last 5 years I felt like there was a bond between me and the man laying in room 7. Of course, I knew it was senseless to think that way. I knew nothing about him, and I shouldn't want to. I knew better than that, him being awake was my cue to leave. I watched the doctor rushing pass by me, pulling me back to reality and I started towards the exit. My job here was done.
