Chapter Thirteen

Teresa awoke in the darkness and heard traffic passing on the street below. Panic seized her when she didn't recognize her surroundings. The bed she was in was small, and had two metal rails on the sides. The room was small and smelled strongly of ammonia. She realized suddenly that she was in a hospital; she couldn't stand hospitals, couldn't breathe in them.

Claustrophobia gripped her and she started to hyperventilate. She reached for the buzzer next to her pillow and frantically pushed it to call the nurse. Three orderlies suddenly burst into the room. "What's wrong?" they all seemed to ask at once, but Teresa's phobia was so bad by then, that she couldn't breathe or speak. They rushed to get an oxygen tank and mask. When it was in place, they asked her again.

"Why – am – I – here?" she asked as she took gulps of air.

"Your family brought you in," one of the orderlies said after the other two left. "They brought you in for trauma. You seemed to have lost the will to live. You didn't respond to anything we did. There were times when you spoke, but it was strange. No one knew what you were saying. It was a few days before we realized that you were quoting Tolkien. It was like you were living in the world he created, yet at the same time, it was a world that was different. We tried giving you drugs to stop the hallucinations, but they only worked for a short time. It was like you built up immunity to them," he said. "Glad to see you're back with us. My name's Jason," he said as he got up to leave. "If you need anything, just call me."

"Can you tell me who brought me here?" she asked, and was surprised the sentence came out so calmly. She supposed her curiosity was winning out over her phobia.

Jason turned from the door and went over to sit by her bed. "Barbara and Scott Jacobs…three weeks ago," he said quietly.

"Who?" she asked confused.

"Barbara and Scott Jacobs," he said in disbelief. "They said they were your parents. Are you sure you're alright?"

Teresa began to panic once again. Neither name Jason had mentioned sounded remotely familiar. "I need to get out of here," she said and tried to rise. Jason stood quickly and tried to get her to lie down and relax. "What do I have to do? I don't understand why I'm here. I can't stand hospitals; I hyperventilate and pass out. I want to go home," she cried. Jason sat back down beside her bed and held her hand trying to comfort her.

"Well," he said softly. "You'll have to pass a psych analysis with Dr. Jackson. He'll be in tomorrow morning, and in fact, he was going to check on you. He'll be pleased that you're awake."

"What is this psych analysis?" Teresa asked curiously. "What's it containing?"

"You'll have to prove to Dr. Jackson that you are mentally stable," Jason said. "That you have control over your grief."

"My grief?" she asked. "What are you talking about? Why was I brought here?"

Jason couldn't believe his ears. It wasn't that the woman seemed to have amnesia that bothered him, that wasn't uncommon with posttraumatic stress disorder, but what was is that she had been there three weeks. Usually, pts didn't cause amnesia to last this long. Jason ran his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily as his shoulders slumped. "Mr. & Mrs. Jacobs brought you here after you lost your husband and son in a car accident," he said sadly. He thought that this news would surely cause her more devastation by causing flash backs, but she showed no signs of change at this news.

"What am I going to do?" she cried. "I don't remember anything. I don't remember this husband or child you speak of. I feel no paternal instincts at all, nor does my heart feel the grief of loss. I feel fine."

"I'm sorry, I don't know the answer to your questions, nor do I pretend to analyse your mental stability. I'm just an orderly here," Jason said sympathetically. "Are you hungry? I can get you something to eat." Teresa shook her head. Jason sighed, then said, "Look, I know all this sounds strange, especially since this is the first time you've been awake since you came here, and since you seem to have amnesia, but Dr. Jackson will be here early in the morning. He can explain everything to you then. You should get some rest; I can talk with the nurses and bring you something to help you sleep if you like." Once more, Teresa shook her head. "Alright," Jason said. "You'll stay with us now, won't you? No more dream world?" Teresa nodded and smiled as Jason got to his feet and left her alone to continue on his rounds.

The next day, she awoke to see sunlight streaming in the window. Jason opened the door after knocking, and brought her breakfast of French toast and beacon. "Glad to see you're still with us. Dr. Jackson will be here in an hour, I'll be back to take you to his office then." She nodded and started eating quickly, and Jason laughed softly. "Well, your appetite's back, that's a good sign," he said then turned and left to complete his breakfast deliveries.

Teresa had spoken the truth when she told Jason that she didn't remember anything about her husband and child he had told her that she had lost in the accident. Since she had awoken last night, her whole life seemed a blur. Yet, the life she had started in Middle Earth with Legolas was so clear. She missed him terribly. Maybe this is Ilúvatar's doing, she thought. After all, there were still too many unknowns.

She thought she was starting to remember her name at least, though she wasn't entirely sure. She knew she couldn't tell Dr. Jackson her name was Haehithien, the name Legolas had given her, nor could she tell him anything of her life in Middle Earth. If she did, she knew that they would surely keep her here. She didn't recall anything or anyone Jason had spoken of though, in fact, she had absolutely no idea who Barbara and Scott Jacobs were. How was she ever going to pass this test, when she didn't even know what it was going to be?

All she knew was that she had to pass it; she had to get out of here. The more she wracked her brain, the more her head hurt. However, she did seem to be remembering something or rather someone she had seen somewhere; a celebrity she had once written to…Orlando Bloom. Maybe he would be her ticket out of here, away from this strange place that she was supposed to know, but didn't. She knew her first step though, was to get out of this hospital.

She remembered that Orlando was an actor she had written to some time before…before, before what? She shook her head trying to remember, but it was no use, and her head hurt too much. She remembered a writer too, J.R.R. Tolkien, and that he had written a book called The Lord of the Rings in which he mentioned an Elf Prince named Legolas and a land called Middle Earth, though something was wrong. Was it really a fictitious place? she wondered.

How could it have been when she'd been there herself? When she'd met nearly all the people that he had mentioned, in one form or another? When she and Legolas had fallen in love and united their bodies a week ago in the cave on the side of Caradhras during the snowstorm? No, she thought as she shook her head. It had to be real; she could still feel his touch upon her body and his kiss upon her lips.

"Yet, how could Tolkien know of such a place? Had he visited Middle Earth as well, and when he'd written about it, had it seemed such a fantastic tale to be real?" she asked. Nothing but silence was her answer. Her thoughts went back to getting out of the hospital, yet no answers came there either. She was alone, confused and scared, and wished more than anything to be back in Legolas' arms. She thought about Orlando again, trying to remember where exactly she had seen him, but it just made her head hurt more. However, she was able to recall titbits of information about him. He was a British actor who, as she recalled, lived in London. She decided then, that she would go there when she got out of the hospital, since that was where her only memories lay. Now, her only problems were getting out of this place, and finding the money to get from wherever here was, to London.
Jason came back to get her an hour later, pushing a wheelchair. "What's that for?" she asked eyeing him suspiciously. "I can walk, you know."

"It's for you," he said, and smiled at her spunk. "It's hospital policy. Your clothes are in the closet if you want to change, I'll wait outside." She nodded and he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. She went to get up, and when she moved her arm, she felt a stab of pain. Moving back the blanket, she noticed an IV stuck in her arm. Looking around, she saw a stand, on which hung a bag of clear fluid. She wasn't surprised though; after all, Jason had told her that she had been catatonic for three weeks. They must have had to nourish her through her veins.

She reached over and pulled the stand closer to her, then pinched the tube and removed it from the needle in her arm so that she could dress easily. After she was dressed, she reattached the tube to the needle, and then knocked on the door to signal Jason that she was ready. She sat in the wheelchair and held onto the stand that held the IV bag as he pushed her down the many hallways to Dr. Jackson's office.