Can you help me, I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
Get put back together
Keep breakin' me in
And this is how we will end
With you and me
Bent
--from Bent by Matchbox 20
He blinked several times, not quite sure if he was seeing correctly. The light was bright, very bright, and he immediately brought a hand up to his eyes to shield them. The shapes around him were blurry and shifting, mostly white. After what seemed an eternity of pleading for light, he felt a sudden panicked urge to go back to darkness.
"Oh, look who's woken up!" cried a cheerful voice, and Micah squinted at the source. It was a large blurry white... thing. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep your life away." The Thing loomed closer, and he could make out what it was. It was a chubby woman clad in a white nurse's uniform. She was smiling broadly.
"Wha--" he began, but she shook her head and frowned.
"No no no no," she scolded, shaking a finger at him. "You've been in a coma for quite some time, young man. You shouldn't talk yet. You should rest."
"I don't want to rest!" Micah struggled to a sitting position, despite the nurse's attempts to keep him still. "I can finally move and talk and see and you tell me to rest? I've been resting forever!" He blinked at the end of this angry protest.
(My my my... is the room supposed to spin and twirl like that?)
Feeling slightly foolish, he settled back into the pillow without another lecture from the nurse. Or, as her nametag read, Nurse Edith. She frowned at him, but seeing as he had already repented, the nurse gave him another smile.
"I know, dear, I know." Nurse Edith scurried to the end of the bed, sneaking a peek at his medical chart. "You've been out for 4 months now."
"4 months?" Micah echoed in disbelief. The nurse nodded.
"Mm hm." Staring up at the ceiling, he rubbed at his forehead thoughtfully. 4 months.
"How did I get in here anyway?" Nurse Edith pretended not to hear; she replaced the chart nervously and headed for the door.
"I'll go get Dr. Phillips and tell him you've woken up, hm?" She didn't give him any say in the matter, though her question made it seem like he had a choice. The door closed behind her, and Micah was left in silence.
(Coma. I was in a coma. 4 months.)
He turned slowly in his bed, facing the impeccably clean wall. He had an odd, floaty feeling; he couldn't quite keep track of his arms and legs. Medication, he supposed. There was also a strange sense of incompletion, like he was missing something. But what worried him the most was the fact that, even though he had a vage recollection of what had happened, he couldn't remember exactly. He was Micah Balding, that was for sure. His father was dead. The little town he had lived in, something horrible had happened... something horrible and evil. And he had the terrible sinking feeling that it was somehow his fault.
He wasn't even aware that he had let his eyes drift closed until there was a gentle hand being pressed to his brow.
"Mm. He feels a little warm." The palm was suddenly the back of a hand. "Edith, will you check him for me? I can't tell if he's got a fever or not." There was a dry chuckle.
"That's usually what a thermometer is for, dear." That was the voice of Nurse Edith. "I'll check." Micah opened his eyes quickly, just barely catching sight of a girl walking away. Then Nurse Edith's round face was in front of him. "Hallooo!" He stifled a shriek of surprise.
(My God, won't this woman go away?)
She was waving a little glass tube in front of him. "Put this in your mouth, deary." Micah scowled, but parted his lips and let the thermometer slide in. Nurse Edith nodded cheerfully. "That's a good boy. Gabe," she suddenly cried, turning to look at the girl who had pressed her hand to Micah's forehead. He still couldn't see her face; she was bent at the waist, gathering what looked like a pile of burial shrouds
(Stop. No no no. No.)
but they were only sheets. The girl glanced up.
"Hm?"
"I'll take those, Gabe dear," Nurse Edith said, hurrying over and gathering the whole bundle in her arms. "You wait until Mr. Balding's thermometer is ready and check it for me, would you?"
"Sure thing, Edith." The girl, Gabe, straightened and shot him a sidelong glance. He could see her face now; she was probably 15 or 16 with short blonde hair which she constantly ran her hand through. Her mouth sometimes twitched into a sideways smile, but right now she looked a little wary. The two watched each other from across the room, eyeing the enemy. Then Nurse Edith smiled cheerfully and waddled for the door, arms full of
(burial shrouds)
sheets.
"I'll be back later. Don't you give her any trouble, Mr. Balding," she called over her shoulder.
"No trouble at all," Gabe murmured, but she shot Micah another wary glance that made him feel uneasy.
He sat in bed while the girl scurried about the room, fixing this and resituating that. Micah scowled uncomfortably, shifting the thermometer in his mouth. He had that weird feeling again, that sense of incompletion.
(Like I'm not all here. But I am-- I think.)
Gabe trotted over and shook her head in disapproval. "Y'can't do that," she said quickly, running her fingers through her hair again. He frowned at her and stuck his tongue out, dislodging the glass tube. Gabe let out a little snort of surprise and popped it right back in.
"Mmph." Micah glared at her from beneath black brows. She gave him a small smile, but the scowl shriveled her grin quite soon.
"Listen, my name's Gabrielle. Everyone calls me Gabe, though--" Gabe straightened his pillow and Micah threw his weight back into it, making it impossible to move. She frowned a little. "Look, I'm just trying to help--"
"Don't need any help," he mumbled, mouth full of thermometer. Out of patience, the girl gave him a little sneer and snatched the chart from the end of his bed.
"Listen, I'm a nurse's assistant, and it's my responsibility to--" Gabe stopped short, reading over the chart. Her face paled a little. "Oh--" She looked up at him, and there was a strange sort of sympathy in her eyes. Sympathy mixed with fear. Micah didn't like it at all.
"What?" he mumbled through the thermometer. Gabe blinked at him, tilting her head slightly. Then she pulled the thermometer out of his mouth.
"Mm. A little high." She checked his forehead again with the back of her hand. Micah pulled away disgustingly.
"Will you stop that?" he snapped, swatting futiley at her. "Stop treating me like a child!" Gabe pulled her hand away slowly.
"Sorry." She swallowed and glanced down at the chart again. The look on her face was really beginning to bother him. Swallowing one more time, she trailed her eyes carefully up to him. "Mr. Balding, can you wiggle the fingers on your right hand, please?" Micah rolled his eyes in exasperation.
"This is--"
"Please?" Gabe was clutching the chart tightly, as if something frightened her. Feeling a little worried himself, his scowl cleared and he moved his right hand obligingly. She nodded. "Good. Your other hand?" Micah did so. Gabe looked down at the chart yet again. When she looked up, there was a distinct waver of uncertainty about her. "Good. Now-- Mr. Balding--" Gabe swallowed painfully. Micah, unnerved by the way she was acting, threw up his arms.
"What? What do you want me to do now, huh?" She didn't show any irritation; she replaced the chart carefully.
"Mr. Balding, will you wiggle your toes for me?" He scowled at her.
"Why are you making such a--" Then he paused. There was that feeling again that something was missing. A cold chill crept up his back, sweeping over his spine and up to the nape of his neck.
"Mr. Balding," Gabe repeated, folding her hands to stop them from shaking. There was something very wrong here. "Wiggle your toes." Micah swallowed now, trying to force the heavy lump down his throat. He focused on moving his toes so this girl would leave him alone. He looked down at the shapes that were draped with the white bedsheet
(Funny, weren't my feet a lot farther away than that...?)
and tried to wiggle his toes. Nothing moved.
"I--" He stopped short and tried again. Nothing moved.
(There is something very wrong here.)
Desperation overcoming him, Micah tried frantically to move his feet. Gabe placed a hand gently on his shoulder.
"Mr. Bal--"
(Wrong. Very very wrong.)
"No!" he cried, jerking away from her touch. "No! I can do this! It's a simple--"
"Mr. Balding," she repeated, "I don't want to have to sedate you." Her voice sounded more than a little nervous. "Please, hold still!" Micah kept thrashing.
(Damn you! Damn you feet, why won't you move?! Come on, you bloody bastards, just move!)
"Mr. Balding!" shrieked Gabe, and ripped the sheet off of the bed.
He had no legs.
That very fact shocked him into silence. Below the waist were two little stubs, cut off almost where his knees should be. Micah stared at them in total and utter disbelief.
(That's not right. I know that's not right.)
Gabe was shaking her head sadly, a palm pressed to her brow.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to--" He tore his eyes from the horror before him and looked up at the girl.
"...where'd they go?" he murmured quietly, sounding rather like a child. Gabe blinked in surprise. Her eyes looked darker now-- perhaps because her face had turned pallid.
"Mr. Balding," she said softly, moving closer to the bed. "Are you--"
"I used to have two," Micah mumbled as he scratched his head in confusion. "I remember. I used to have two legs, longer than that. I'm almost sure of it." The girl frowned and spoke quietly to herself.
"He must be in shock." Gabe grabbed the chart nervously, running her free hand through her hair. "I'm such an idiot, such a stupid-- Mr. Balding, don't worry. I'll--"
"Yes, I'm quite sure that they were longer than that. I had feet too, I believe," he reassured her, nodding to affirm that statement. "Two of them." Growing more and more nervous, she pressed her hand to his forehead.
"I think you're running a fever," she blurted, "I'll call in Nurse Edith." He shook his head, a confused little frown twisting his brows.
"No, you don't have to. Unless she has my legs. I think she might, you might want to call her--" It was just then all rational thought that Micah had left his head. He could almost hear something snap inside. He shot straight up, hands clutching his hair tightly. "This isn't happening, this isn't real. No. Nononono--" Gabe shrieked at this sudden turn for the worse and grabbed at his shoulders.
"Micah!" she cried, finally using his first name. "Micah, please, calm down. This'll all be all right, I promise--" Micah had his hands clamped over his ears now, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"Atonement! Only by the blood of the lamb are we saved! A cloud by day, a pillar of fire by night!" He started rocking back and forth, babbling nervously. "Remand your soul to God, for you will stand before His throne sooner than you think! Thus let the iniquitous be cut down so that the ground may be fertile again, saith the Lord God of hosts!" Gabe let out a short scream and, seeing the only thing to do, gave him a good strong slap. Micah jerked back, body unbelievably stiff, and then slumped down. His crazy babbling became a soft whimper. "I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to..." The girl stared at him in disbelief, then pressed her hands tightly to her cheeks.
"Oh my God," she murmured. He let out a soft sob, hiding his face behind his fingers.
"I didn't mean to, I swear I didn't..."
Nurse Edith walked in with nicely folded sheets.
She opened her mouth to speak, that endlessly cheerful smile crinkling the corners of her eyes, and stopped. Nurse Edith took in the scene: Gabe looking absolutely terrified, Micah sobbing into his hands, and the blanket thrown aside to expose his non-existent legs.
Needless to say, she dropped the sheets.
"What happened?" Nurse Edith shrieked, scurrying over quickly. Gabe looked up, shaking her head in a kind of delayed remorse.
"I... I was trying to alert him of his condition, Edith, and he just started thrashing, so I had to show him -- I had to -- and then he started screaming this nonsense, but it was horrible, Edith--" She stopped herself as her voice cracked, threatening to spill tears of fright. In a small voice, she added, "I panicked."
"Oh, heavens," murmured Nurse Edith, ignoring Gabe's explanation. She snapped the sheet back over Micah's lap and proceeded to fluff his pillow, whispering words of comfort. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Balding. Gabe shouldn't have reacted so hastily. If there's anything I can do--" But he was quiet now, no longer crying nor screaming, though the remnants of tears were drying rapidly on his pallid face. Gabe looked on a few feet away, hands tucked under her arms like they had just performed some horrible deed.
"Edith, I'm under control now. Mr. Balding," she said hurriedly, turning her gaze to Micah, "I'm so sorry, I can't even--"
"I think you need to go home, Gabe," Nurse Edith said stonily, turning from her patient to face the girl. Gabe blinked in surprise.
"But I--"
"Take the rest of the day off." The elder nurse sounded quite sure of her decision. "I'll see you tomorrow." Gabe shook her head quickly.
"No, I promise, it was just a mistake, I really didn't mean to--"
"Gabe." Nurse Edith's lips thinned. The girl surrendered, shoulders slumping. Her gaze drifted over to Micah. He stared blankly back at her, mind returning to his lost legs.
(Gone. Both of them. Little nubs, just about as useless as a pirate's peg leg...)
"...yes, Nurse Edith," she mumbled, and headed for the door. Micah watched her go.
(Why don't I have any legs? Where did they go? ...and where is she going?)