Ahuh ahuhf pshs.
His hands were on his knees, his breathing coming raggedly through his teeth and lips. A glance over his shoulder made him run again, as fast as his weary legs could carry him. He could hardly see for the sweat in his eyes, despite the cold bite of the air. He was running, running...
---
She lay on her bed, playing telephone tag with her friend, who never seemed to be home. She groaned when her friend's parents said her friend wasn't home (for the fourth time that evening) and made vows to have her be called back a-sap. Resigned, she leaned over to hang the phone up on her dresser.
Sighing, she stretched and stood, meandering over to her window. Her third-story bedroom offered quite a view of the woods behind the house, which was at the end of a cul-de-sac where the woods curled around them protectively.
But the protectiveness disappeared when a shot rang out, and she screamed, whitening, as a motion-sensored light on her back porch showed a boy with blood running down his face.
She raced to her phone just as it rang.
---
"He may have lost his memory, miss." The Orderly looked at her as she stood at the bedside of the boy she'd rescued, the boy she'd saved. He had not awoken yet, but the doctors had hopes: it had only been some seven hours since he'd been shot in the head.
The girl and boy were both white; the former from fear, the latter from his injury. The Orderly, a young but tall man, looked between them. "Do you know him from somewhere?"
"No. I don't remember him, and I would if I'd met him," she said, her voice gaining strength as she continued.
The Orderly nodded.
---
He came to life again after another two days, feeling hungover. He kept his eyes shut, feeling that opening them would hurt. He stayed like that, still, silent, hungover. And then he had to open his eyes from curiosity when a shadow blocked the light.
Blinking, he half heard a scream. "He's awake! He's awake!" He groaned at the loudness of it, and felt pulled at from all directions when the Young Nurse entered, bustling in her productiveness.
Tests were run, and he questioned his location. "You're in the hospital, young man. Speaking of which, who might you be?" the Young Nurse asked.
He thought, but he couldn't remember. Frantic, he clawed the sheets holding him down, but the Young Nurse kept him abed. "You're in no state to go about, you've been shot in the head. And if it weren't for this young lady, you'd be long dead."
The original shadow across his bed blushed.
---
The girl's name was Alexandra Saint, but she'd shaken away the formalities and for all of one day insisted on being called Sasha. "I'm going to embrace my Russian heritage," she had said, shy even then.
Confused, he'd replied, "You're going to become a brain surgeon?" Sasha giggled in his single room as the Young Nurse came in with his dinner on a tray followed by the Orderly, who looked crisper than usual.
"Hello," he said. "Miss Saint, your mother is waiting for you downstairs." Alexandra looked plaintively at the Orderly. "But he's just woken up, and I don't want to leave him here all alone."
"That's all very well, Miss Saint, but your mother reminds you that you have a birthday party in a half an hour."
"And yet they could all survive without me, while he couldn't've."
"Your logic is amazing, Miss Saint, but very trying on your mother's nerves, I am sure. Say goodbye now, and then I will take you downstairs." Alexandra sighed, and turned to the boy.
"But I don't know what to call him, Orderly." She turned on him as he lay there, feeling very exposed. "What do I call you?"
He frowned. "I can't remember, can I? But you can just, say goodbye. You know."
"Okay. Goodbye then." Alexandra took his hand and shook it; he was glad he had some control over that aspect of his dignity, at least. He was very surprised, but not unpleased, when she bent to peck him on the cheek. Slightly pink, she rose and left with the Orderly, looking back to wave.
The Young Nurse looked after the Orderly with softer eyes than usual, and he looked up at her. "Do you like him, Miss Nurse?" The Young Nurse started, but laughed at him.
"I certainly hope not, young man. I'm engaged, you see, to an excellent man."
"Oh." The young man in the bed thought about excellent men, but could not remember any.
---
"Will you come back tomorrow, Miss Saint?" the Orderly asked. Miss Saint shrugged nonchalantly.
"If my mother lets me, of course. But school starts soon, and I have assignments to do."
"You could bring them here, maybe the work will help jog his memory." Alexandra thought about that, and nodded. "Is your mother uninterested in the case?"
"Case? He's not crazy."
"But he was shot on your property, Miss Saint. Clearly there will be some police involvement, if there is not already."
"Oh, there is." She pressed the down button on the elevator and continued. "They spoke to us very soon after I called them, but all of us were very soon taken off the suspects list. It was very clear he was shot while still in the forest, and we were all indoors."
The Orderly followed this and watched her hair in the fluorescent light as she continued until the door opened.
---
He awoke, restless, after a blank sleep and lifted a hand to his head, feeling heavy. The TV on the opposite all showed a mixed forecast for the week, and his eyes fell to his swinging eating tray. Noticing a book there, he took it and read its covers before engulfing himself in the unfamiliar words.
The Phantom of the Opera
by Gaston Leroux
Chapter I. Is it the Ghost?
It was the evening...