Chapter 3

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock seemed like it was echoing through the nearly silent room. Ms. Jimes had excused herself to the waiting room, despite my attempts to keep her in the room so I wouldn’t be by myself. I think that the conflict of interest we had was the reason we didn’t get along very well. She was more concerned with herself and how’d she look instead of caring for others as much as she should. I have that feeling that she was only there so it wouldn’t look bad on herself.

The door cracked open with a firm knock at the door. The nurse from earlier poked her head inside of the door and looked over the room for me. Seeing that I was awake, she opened it entirely and walked into the room, holding a bag.

“Hello, Alex,” she said happily. “Your Aunt came in and brought these with her for you to change into.”

“Thank you, Ashley,” I replied. “Does this mean I will be able to leave soon?”

“Doctor Schmidt is just finishing up your paperwork and writing out your prescriptions,” Ashley answered. “You should be able to go ahead and change. Just sit on the edge of the bed as you can’t stand on your one leg. If you need help just press the call light.”

I nodded as she set the bag beside me. She walked back out of the room, shutting the door behind her. I shuffled my way around till I was able to let my feet hang off the bed. My entire left leg was wrapped in a dark blue cast, that encase my ankle as well. This is was going to be great. Opening the bag that Aunty got me, I saw that she packed me a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Thank god, jeans would have been a nightmare to put on. But anything is better than having a hospital gown on.

I sighed as I started to wrestle with the shorts over the cast. “Stupid cast,” I growled under my breath. “This is going to suck.”

As I pulled my shirt over my head, a knock sounded at the door. I glanced over to see Doctor Schmidt entering the room.

“Nice to see that you are awake,” he said. “I bet you are ready to leave, as you have already spent a week here.”

I stared wide-eyed at him. A week? I thought I had been here just a few days.

“No, it couldn’t have been a week. It should be Tuesday,” I whispered. “The fire happened Sunday night...”

“Mr. Fredricks, it is the 18th,” Doctor Schmidt said. “You were admitted on the 11th. Do you honestly not remember what has happened?”

“No. Should I?”

“We had to put you in a medicated state because you were screaming from the pain once the medication the EMTs wore off. You didn’t want to be alone so that was the only way we could leave you to attend to other patients,” the Doctor replied.

“I don’t remember,” I whispered. “Why can’t I?”

“It is common for some people to have short-term memory loss after a traumatic event, which may be your case,” he said. “It is nothing to be worried about, after a while the memories should come back.”

I nodded somberly, thoughts racing in my head. ‘What if I never get them back? What if something happened that I really need to remember?’

“So I can go home now?”

“Yes, you are able to go home now,” the doctor replied. “I have finished your paperwork. I’ll send a nurse in with your prescriptions and they’ll help you out.”