When I wake up again, I am alone in the room. The haze in my brain seems to be dissolving, and I can hear my thoughts more clearly as I force my eyes to adjust to the bright overhead lights.
My first notion is to look at the band on my wrist again. T.V. That's probably my initials, but what do they stand for? How is it even possible to forget my own name? O Negative. That's probably my blood type, I think. Not that it's important right now, anyway. The numbers at the bottom. Whose phone number is this? I look around for a phone in the room, but I can't find my mobile and there isn't any landline.
White room, white bed. Looks like a hospital ward, just like the one where some boy had been in when the toy car in his stomach required him to have an urgent surgery. Who is the boy? The name is stuck on my tongue, but I just can't seem to remember it. Should I call a nurse? I need to get some answers on what happened to me, why I am here, and most importantly, who I am. But would they answer my questions, if at all? The unnerving, cold, all business look on that nurse's face when she put me to sleep definitely did not look like she would be up for a conversation.
It's frustrating to have your limbs not following your orders when you need them to. I fumble around until my fingers find the controller the woman used earlier to call for the nurse, and stare at the various icons on the switch. Playing around with the buttons, I tap on the icon resembling a half upright bed to adjust the cot up to a more comfortable sitting position.
Finally, I can pull the blankets off from my body below my torso.
No wonder I can't move my legs. One of them is in a thick cast, while the other is cuffed to the metal railing at the end of the crib. Whoever these people are, they certainly do not want me leaving the room, or even the bed itself.
I feel a sudden urge to piss, and try as I might to hold it in, the liquid just refuse to be contained. Mierda, I am about to wazz the bed. As I brace myself for the embarrassing wetness that is about to flood the sheets, I am surprised to feel the spot below my legs remaining dry, considering that it is probably going to be a huge puddle with how full my bladder feels. Lifting up the edges of the clothing and looking down, I see tubes coming out of my light green hospital gown, and a half filled bag of yellow fluid at the end of one of them.
It suddenly dawns on me that I must have been in some sort of coma for quite some time to need all these pipes and receptacles. How long have I been asleep in this state? Did I get into a car accident or something? But I think I still haven't got my driving license?
The door is suddenly thrown open, and a woman in crisp uniform walks in. This nurse looks familiar, and I can almost swear that I have seen her before from somewhere. She has a crown of stunning curly raven hair draping down her back and a sexy lopsided half smile adorning her face. Her turquoise eyes light up as they fall upon me, and she quickly turn around to lock the door before marching over. "Damn it, Vega. It has been forever since I last saw you. You have no idea how much I miss you."
Her brows creased as she gaze over the various tubes connected to me and run her fingers over the gauze covering my arms. There is an unmistakable sharp anger in her voice when she spoke. "I can't believe anyone would do this to their own flesh and blood. Shit, Vega. We need to get you out of here right now."
I can feel my pulse rising rapidly, blood rushing to my stomach. She looks so mesmerizing, and I can stare at her forever. Unlike the previous pink top lady, I have this weird sense of absolute trust towards this person even though I have no idea who she is. Vega? Is that my name? I try to speak, again, to ask her, but no sound comes out. It soon becomes apparent that she did not notice my attempts to communicate with her.
She takes out her phone from her inner pocket, and proceeds to wave it around, like she is taking a picture. A few minutes pass by as she rotate the device around, looking as though she is recording a video, before turning it off and stuffing it back into her garb.
"Can you move? Stupid question, of course you can't," she said as she examined the chain attached to my right ankle. She tugs at it a couple of times, before rummaging around in her pocket. "I remember putting it in my pocket because I thought I would need it. Damn it, where is it?"
"Ha! Found it."
She held up a small metal clip in triumph. I can't see what she's doing, but I feel her jerking the chain on my feet around. A few minutes later, my leg feels lighter as something heavy drops onto the sheets.
My arm is hoisted over her shoulder as she wrap hers around my waist to lift me up from the bed. "Careful now, Vega. Don't put weight on your left, you can't stand on that." My legs feel like jello as I attempt to straighten them to stand, but they clearly are not obeying.
The door handle suddenly starts twitching, and we stare at each other as a voice from the other side of the door started yelling. "Hey, open up now!" A cloud of alarm pass by her features as she quickly push me back to the bed and clip the cuffs back on, before rushing over to the window and lifting one of the panes up. Cold sweat drip down my back as I watch her duck below the glass panel to land on the ledge. She whisper shouts to me before pushing down the window pane, "I'll be back later. Please stay awake and try to exercise your leg a bit. I don't think I can carry you on our climb down."
With a wave, she disappeared from my sight as the sound of the keys jingling halted and the door opens slowly.