Page 3 of Amnesia

“Can you hear me?” I asked, desperate.

Her eyes collided with mine. I gasped, nearly falling. A name I hadn’t spoken in so long it sounded foreign to my own ears cut through the sound of my pounding heart and uneven breathing.

Her eyes drifted once more, refusing to open again.

I started to run, using my familiarity with this place as a GPS. Sight wouldn’t be useful right now because my eyes were incapable of looking at anything but her face.

It wasn’t her.

But oh my God, what if it was?

Slivers of light pricked my eyelids, which up until this moment seemed far too heavy to lift. As I lay against something soft at my back, thought and awareness barely registered.

The gritty feeling as I struggled to raise my eyelids scraped and burned over my eyeballs as if warning me it wasn’t a good idea. Swallowing past the sandpaper in my throat, I stopped working and lay still. Cognizance slowly came forward in the form of something weighing me down and the echo of footsteps nearby.

Adrenaline jackknifed through me, and my body arched upward with the force of my gasp. The weight of whatever held me caused severe panic to fill me, and I began to fight against it.

“No!” I screamed, flailing about, trying to escape the binds. “Let me go!”

High-pitched beeping filled my ears, and the footsteps I’d heard grew more insistent and much closer.

He was coming!

“No!” I screamed.

Strong hands grabbed my arms and pinned me down. I tried to fight back, but they were much stronger than me. Kicking my legs, I tried to free them, but even more weight came down, holding them still until I was gasping for breath and ready to beg.

“Please!” I pleaded as wetness coated my cheeks. It made me realize the grittiness under my lids was rinsed away, and my eyes sprang open.

A man was leaning over me. He had graying hair and wore some kind of white shirt. The scream that ripped right out of me scared us both.

More hands and voices came out of nowhere, and I thrashed around again.

“Miss!” the man yelled. “Miss, calm down.”

“Get away from me!” I screamed again.

“Miss!” another voice yelled, a woman this time. Turning in her direction, I saw a pair of kind brown eyes staring at me. “We aren’t trying to hurt you.”

I calmed some, but the thundering of my heart made me feel as if I might spiral out of control. “You aren’t?”

“No.” The woman, who was also dressed in white, spoke. “You’re at a hospital. You were in an accident.”

“W-what?” I stammered, collapsing back against the bed, no longer straining against the binds.

“You’re at a hospital.”

“You’re trying to hold me down!” I accused.

“We don’t want you to hurt yourself.” the woman explained. The hands, even the man’s, remained.

“I don’t like it,” I admitted, recoiling.

The man straightened, stepping back. The nurse was slower to withdraw, but she did so after a few seconds.

“My legs,” I rasped. Suddenly, my throat hurt.

“It’s just the blankets.”

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