His eyes opened again. His vision was clear. He was in a bright small room. There were some monitors and bags with strange liquids. He realized that the cables belonging to the monitors and the tubes from the liquid bags were fixed on his body. 'Shit! I'm in a hospital?' He began to panic. He started to move into a more comfortable position, but moving was difficult and his whole body hurt, like the worse muscle soreness he ever had.

"Hey, you're awake, that's good." A petite red haired woman said when she entered the room. He felt, as if he knew her, at least her voice, but wasn't able to remember where he had listened to it.

"Uhm…Ms.," His voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat. " can you tell me where I am and what has happened?" He went on, shy, his voice still hoarse. He felt uneasy and lost.

"Don't worry about your voice this is gone within a few days." She went to the monitors looked at them and then noted something. Then she turned around him with her full attention.

"You're in a hospital in Vancouver, Canada and you got involved in a bad car accident." 'Help! What! This…No!'

"Ouch." Was the only word, he was able to expose.

"Yes, that's true. But you've made it, but there are still a few surgeries coming towards you." 'Wow, it always can get worse and I'm damn frightened about all this.'

"No reason to panic, but they're necessary to reduce the measure of long-term consequences."

"That bad?" 'Stupid question.' He was sure, he felt how bad it was, at least there was no limb without pain.

"Do you wanna know?" She asked him critically. She must have seen in his expression that he wasn't fond of knowing all the misery.

"Maybe later?"

"Alright. Is it okay with you, when I ask some questions? You don't have to answer all of them."

"Okay."

"Can you tell me your Name and date of birth?"

"Neil Taggart born on 23rd of march 1985 in Houston, Texas." He added the last dates about his person, because he was sure that this question would follow.

"Alright. Uhm…do you know what you've done, before the accident? Where you've been, to whom you've talked to?"

He had to think back, but his memory in somehow was blurred, but after some time it was nearly clear again.

"I've been in a mall, I needed some cloths to change and then I've been in a small book shop."

"What did you buy?"

"Jeans, T-shirts and two books, one about Canada and I don't know what's the other one is about. For what do you need this?" He was confused. He was alone. His body began to hurt again awfully and he began to be tiered.

"I need this to test if there are damages which we haven't detected now and to see how bad your amnesia is."

"Oh, okay." 'I really don't like this. I want to wake up from this night mare, now!'

"Do you know how the accident happened?" He shook his head, he had no idea how it had happened and he still was reluctant to believe that this all was more than a bad dream.

"What exactly is the last thing you know?"

"I paid my books and went out. It had rained. Nothing more."

"Okay, sounds as if your head as had some more luck than the rest of your body. Now one unpleasant question…if you can't answer it now it's okay, but I need to know it sometime, so…What about your relationship to your parents?" She asked very carefully.

'Miss, how does my relationship look like? I'm alone in a hospital in Canada and nobody cares and don't start to tell my you haven't tried to call them. After some troubled years, I know something about hospital police in this case.' He felt a lump in his throat. The truth again started to hurt, but there had nothing else to be expected. When he had gone out this door, he had known that this had been the final cut.

"Not the best." He didn't want to explain to her all this shit about being the scum and all that.

" You don't like to talk about that. But the unfortunate fact is that you're here in a Canadian hospital and your parents don't seem to bother and now I need to know what to do with you. Do you have any relatives we could inform, someone who would care?" He shook his head. There was none. He began to feel awful and this feeling wasn't related to the injuries due the accident.

"Friends? Anyone who would care?" She kept on, very carefully. Again he shook his head. There was nobody who would care. His friends from school? Not really or? He had wanted to talk to Holly about his fight with his family, but she didn't want to listen to that crap. Nice friends nobody cares if you're in serious trouble. 'But there must be someone. It can't be true that I'm really alone. I know that there was someone who would care, but who?' He began to think desperately, but he came to the conclusion that there really was nobody.

"In this case I have to inform the youth welfare office. You're still underage and you have no graduation or anything." 'Shit!'

"Uhm…can't you skip this? I mean in a few months I'm eighteen."

"Sorry honey, but in Canada you have to be nineteen to bee of age. I can't skip this, but I have an idea what to do, afterwards. Only if you want to of course. I know a school which could fit your interests. It's a boarding school. If you can get a foot in there, you don't have to worry about anything. You could be free to live here, how you're pleased but you weren't alone and you won't have trouble with the youth welfare office." He looked questioning at her. This sounded in somehow mysterious and strange. But not being alone, was a good reason to try or? He had been alone for seventeen years and he didn't want this circumstance to last any longer then necessary.

"Where's the catch?" He never did trust any peace.

"First of all you need to regain some strength and then you'll have to do some tests. Nothing physical, only brain work." She looked into his eyes, and fondled his arm.

"I dunno…" He began to yawn. He wasn't sure if all this was the right thing to do. Maybe he should go back. He didn't feel strong enough for this final cut, in somehow.

"You're tiered. That's okay. Sleep is the best way to come on tracks again." Carefully not to disturb all these tubes and cables she tucked him in and gently stroked through his hair.

"Dr. Peterson will come later and explain you everything."

"Miss, your name?" He asked. He was that bad tiered that he had to struggle, keeping his eyes open.

"Dr. Fiona Morgan. And now rest." He closed his eyes and drifted away, he felt once again how someone stroked through his hair.

'They really don't care. What if I had died? Would they have given a party like: let's celebrate the end of the evil? They can't do that. Oh, yes forgotten they can. Okay, I know I not innocent in this and I should have braced myself and I know I went too far, more than often. But hell, they don't care now. That's not fair. I've been on mended ways and they know that. My results had been best of the class last term and…nobody cared. What…'

"Hey, how do you feel?" Dr. Morgan came in and asked.

"I had better days, but thank you."

"Only side effects from the anaesthesia. But this surgery had been the last one for the next few months. We have to wait until all swellings have decayed. And then we'll see how to go on." He nodded. He had realized that his parents really didn't give a damn shit about him. This fact hurt. It hurt badly and he began to feel empty and lonely. He had no idea what caused this feeling. He had known before that he didn't mean anything to his parents, but this…it was not only a feeling, it was a fact.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" She sat down on the side of the bed. 'Damn it, why can't she leave me alone and let me get drowned in self-pity?'

"It's because of your parents?" He didn't answer, but looked away. He felt how he was close to cry.

"Don't think about that. I know this is sad and that you must feel lonely and hurt, but if you decide for the McQueans Institution…I mean you won't forget what they've done to you, but it might be easier to cope with it."

"But…I don't want to…I can deal with it on my own…somehow."

"I don't think so. Neil, listen, you've had a very bad accident and the fact that you've survived it borders the miraculous, but you're going to need someone who helps you to deal with the long-term effects and this is not going to be easy. And you need someone who helps you what has happened to you or what has not happened." He didn't know what to answer there was nothing to be answered.

"You're such a gifted boy and you're so full of heart. I would never forgive me, if this would get lost only because…nobody cared."

"Are you now a kind of social worker?" He hated it when someone touched his feelings, when someone was close to make him cry.

"No, I'm worried." She still spoke in this quite and calm voice.

"Damn it! Nobody ever worried about me, so stop this! If I'm dead or alive nobody cares. Don't pretend as of you do." He began to tremble. He was full of rage and sadness.

"Neil, don't…" He didn't want to listen to any more words. He wanted to get out of there. He wanted all this to end. His body was sore and he still felt like crap.

"I don't wanna go to this department, I … don't wanna be in Canada and…and … I don't… don't wanna stay any longer in this damn hospital." He felt how tears ran down his cheeks. He was so tired and he felt so bad. He never had felt worse. Not only physical, but also emotional. Yes, he really whished he hadn't survived this accident. It would have been so much easier for him. She took him into her arms. Stroking through his hair

"I know. This is all way too much, but believe me, if you go to the McQueans Institution you'll feel much better."