CARA

The steady beeping sound brought me to consciousness. I tried to open my eyes but they felt too heavy. I tried to move but all I could manage was to twitch my fingers. The beeping continued. Where was I? I tried smelling my surrounding but something was lodged in my nostrils. I instantly managed to figure where I was. The beeping, the soft pillow and the nasal cannula—I’m in the hospital but this time, I’m not the nurse. I am the patient.

I tried to make a sound but my throat was too dry it hurt to even manage a groan. Focusing my attention back to my eyes, I managed to peel my lids off from each other and was immediately blinded by the light. Overwhelmed, I closed them and tried once more the moment I recovered. This time the light was tolerable. I could see flowers at the foot of the bed. Then I saw a black-haired girl bent over some papers, sitting in front of the service table standing against the wall. It must be my nurse. But why was she here? Did I need that much attention? What was the extent of my injuries? Since I couldn’t move my head, I figured I was wearing a c-collar.

I tried to feel my body and after a few moments I gave up. I couldn’t feel a damn thing. I groaned again and this time, a sound came out. The young lady looked up and smiled when she saw me looking at her.

“You’re awake!” She shot to her feet and I realized she was not my nurse. She was wearing dark jeans and a large gray shirt. She approached me with weary, as if she was afraid I was going to pounce on her. Well, not at my state. She must have seen the confusion in my eyes so she explained, “You’re in the hospital.”

That I’ve already figured out. Go on…talk some more. What happened? Are you the driver of the car that hit me?

“Thank God you did not acquire a major injury, just three stitches on your head. Your friend is okay too. She had a few stitches as well but I think you’re the first one to wake up. Mom and dad said they will be dropping by soon but you know them…soon is not always what it means…”

She lost me from the moment she mentioned ‘mom’ and ‘dad’.

 “Hooo…” I croaked. That did not come out right. I was trying to ask who the hell she was.

“What?” She frowned.

“Who…” I finally managed.

Her frown deepened. “Who? Me? You don’t remember?”

“No…”

“Bridgette, I think you’re tired. You should get some sleep.”

Bridgette? Did I hear her right? I tried to tell her she was talking to the wrong woman but my body couldn’t hold on. It wanted to shut down once again. I fell asleep with the thought of Bridgette somewhere in the hospital.

BRIDGETTE

I did not dare open my eyes. I knew I was in the hospital. The beeping sound of the monitor was very familiar. I had seen and heard the same thing in various movies and television shows. A constant snoring bothered me though. Was I lying in a ward with another patient? I had to get the nurse to transfer me to a private room immediately.

The snoring became louder and I groaned. I was not sure if the sound came out of my throat but it worked. The snoring stopped immediately and I felt someone holding my hand. It must be mom…or dad. But I knew it was unlikely. So it must be Lorraine. I tried opening my lids and when I did, the throbbing intensified. I had to close them again but before that, I caught a glimpse of a man with curly, graying hair staring at me.

I didn’t know who he was but I was pretty sure he was the one holding my hand. If he was a doctor, I swear doctors didn’t hold their patients’ hands the way this man held mine. Who the hell was this guy? If he was someone from the psych department who luckily got away to enter rooms of sexy and beautiful patients, the hospital would face a lot of legal issues the moment I could stand back on two feet.

I tried to ignore the man, wishing he was just a dream. His warm touch was too real though.

The accident was clear in my mind—the moment before the impact at least—so I was certain I did not suffer from amnesia or any other complications that came with a vehicular accidents often portrayed in movies or my favorite television dramas.

“Honey, it’s dad. You’re gonna be fine, okay? The doctor said you will be back on your feet anytime soon.” The voice was deep and warm.

I didn’t recognize that voice. A frown formed on my face. Who the hell was this guy?

“I bought your favorite cookies. We’ll eat them all when you’re able, I promise.”

Dad never talked that way. He never even held my hand in years. No, scratch that. I couldn’t even remember him holding mine since my mind started to store memories of childhood. This was not my dad. This was some sick man from the psych ward having some delusions. I wanted to reach out and press the button that would make the nurse scurry towards my room.

However, my hands wouldn’t oblige. And then it was darkness all over again.

CARA

The second time I woke up was much easier. I managed to open my eyes without being blinded by the light. My gaze flew to the window and I realized I slept through the whole day. It was night time and the only light was the one across the bed. The black-haired lady was still there. This time, she was wearing an oversized green shirt. She was still sitting on the same spot with one leg dangling on the armrest of the chair. She was also holding a phone and talking to someone.

“She’s fine. She has been sleeping well. The doctor said her vitals are stable. We’re just waiting for her to wake up and then we’ll know the extent of the injury…”

I did not bother to listen. I knew what the doctors would do next. They would assess my neurological status. They would want to know if I had sustained any brain injury. I was pretty sure I’d perfect the Glasgow coma scale.

Moving was a challenge. First, I was afraid to try again and fail. For all I knew, I must have been missing a leg and didn’t know it. But the black-haired girl said I received just a few stitches and I was hoping it didn’t include stitches on an amputated extremity.

I did not realize I let out a small groan and the lady immediately turned her head towards me. She smiled and said to the phone, “She’s awake. You want to talk to her?” She waited for the reply and it must not have been good because she frowned and rolled her eyes. She placed the phone down without saying goodbye, withdrew her leg from the armrest and stood. She walked towards me and stood beside the bed, maintaining a distance. It was as if she was afraid to come nearer. She was holding back something and I wondered what.

“Who…are you?” Of course I needed to know. I then remembered a book I read about a girl who woke up after an accident and she didn’t remember three whole years of her life. Maybe I was suffering from the same thing and this lady was a friend whom I forgot.

My black-haired companion frowned. “It’s me, Lorraine.” When I did not reply, she added, “Your sister?”

Oh my God, my brain erased a whole family?

But no, I remembered my father. I remembered he was the only family I had. So who the hell was this woman?

I shook my head but the c-collar restricted my motion. “Where’s dad?” I croaked.

“I was just in the phone with him. He and mom are still in Europe for their tour. Your remember, right? They said they couldn’t come right away.” She did not sound disappointed. In fact, it was as if she knew all along that it would happen.

“Mom? I don’t…”

“Don’t worry about them. You’re fine now and that’s all that matters.”

No, I don’t have a mom! I wanted to tell her that. But I was too confused to even speak. “Date?”

I had to ask. Maybe dad got married while I was lying in a coma for ten years and this lady was my step sister. That was the only logical explanation I could come up with.

“It’s July 27, just three days after your accident. Are you sure you’re okay? I think I need to call the doctor. They would like to know you’re awake.”

I wanted to stop her but she was already gone. I was left on my own, trying to make sense out of everything. I remembered my night shift duty, the old lady on the street, the apple, Mrs. Fowler, the warm bath, the sleep, the shopping, the restaurant and then…Bridgette. I remembered the rain and the blinding light of the car that brought me to this bed. What did I miss? What?

While waiting for the black-haired lady, who called herself Lorraine, and the doctor, I tried to move my fingers. They obeyed. Then I moved my hands and then I tried lifting it before my eyes. I recognized the IV line inserted through my vein but I couldn’t recognize my hand. It looked weird. Not ugly-weird, but not-mine-weird. I was certain it was not my hand. I frowned. It must be the effect of the head injury. I felt for my head and winced when my fingers touched my right bandaged temple. Considering the size of the bandage, my injury was not major.

I heard footsteps coming through the door and I immediately hid my hand under the sheet as if I was caught stealing a cookie from the jar.

Calm down, Cara, I told myself. Breathe…that’s it…calm down…

The doctor smiled down at me, a nurse with a chart standing behind him. “Good evening, Bridgette.”

BRIDGETTE

The man was still there when I opened my eyes. How could not anyone have noticed that a crazy man was prowling around hospital rooms?

“Good, you’re awake. They took you off the monitor,” the man said with a smile. The room was dimly lit but his wrinkled eyes were visible. Sitting by my bed, holding my hand and looking into my eyes was a warm and kind man.

But I didn’t know him.

“Who are you?” I asked with great effort. My throat was quenched dry it hurt to even say the first word.

The man frowned. “I think I need to call the doctor, honey.”

Honey? “Who are you?” I demanded once again.

He stood up. “It’s me, your father. Don’t you remember me?”

Of course I remembered my father but I was pretty sure it was not this man. My father would never be like him. In addition, my father would not be in my hospital bed even if it meant I was dying of cancer.

“You’re not my dad. Who are you?”

The man held the bridge of his nose between his eyes. He was obviously tired and my questions were causing him a lot of stress.

Well sorry, mate, I could not very well care.

When he opened his eyes, he said, “I’ll call the doctor.”

The moment he stepped out of the room, I lifted my hands. They felt heavier than usual and as much as I wanted to see if I had any cuts on my arms, I couldn’t have because of the lack of proper lighting. So what did I do? I tried to feel every part of my body. When my hands landed on my chest, I frowned. There was no pain, but something was definitely lacking. I felt for them once again and my frown deepened. Was it just me or did my breasts shrink? I was pretty sure I was a decent cup C and these tiny globes were nothing like it.

I started to panic. What the hell happened to me? I wanted to get up and stand in front of a damned mirror. I just had to!

Bridgette, you’re having a nervous breakdown. Calm down this instant, I ordered myself. Don’t panic. It’s going to be alright. Your boobs are fine. Your hands just got bigger or something. Calm down, Bridgette…

But I still did not have the strength and the door was already opening to reveal the old man and the man in white coat. I wanted to tell the doctor that he was walking beside a lunatic but his words stopped me.

“Good evening, Cara. How are you feeling?”

***Hi, guys! I hope this new story interests you. Please forgive any writing errors if you have encountered any (e.g. grammar, tenses, etc.) I don't edit my works most of the time because I find it boring. LOL. Anyway, I hope you like the story so far!

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