Page 15 of Burn

“I don’t want to be sedated,” I croak out.

Both women chuckle, and Dr. Romera replies, “We’re not in the habit of drugging our patient’s drinks. We have more efficient ways of administering medications. This is just soda.”

My hand trembles when I reach for the cup. When Nurse Lloyd sees it, she pulls back a little, reaching into her pocket again and producing a straw. Relief floods my system. I wouldn’t have asked for one, but I’d also accepted there was a very real possibility I was about to wear some of the drink.

Sitting up, I lean forward, letting her place the straw to my lips. I take in a big mouthful. The soda is cool and crisp. The bubbles fizz on my tongue, and my throat sings as it goes down.The taste takes a few seconds to register. It’s similar to orange juice after brushing your teeth if you brush your teeth with ash and gasoline. I wrinkle my nose at it. It’s disgusting.

“I know. It’ll likely take a few days for your taste buds to return to normal. Smoke gets into everything. Your hair, your clothes, your skin, your mouth. Trust me, water would have been worse,” Nurse Lloyd says.

That makes sense. I spent so much time in thick black smoke without any protection over my mouth. I tasted it at that moment.

Dr. Romera gently ushers the nurse out of the way. Then, she lifts a small flashlight to my eyes and flicks her hand back and forth.

“You’ll likely cough for a few weeks. However, it should gradually decrease. The next 48 hours will be the worst.” she explains, her fingers gently pressing into my throat. “Black mucus from your nose or mouth is normal. You will be at higher risk of respiratory infections while you heal. You should avoid large groups of people if possible. Minimize exposure to viruses that could land you back here with pneumonia or bronchitis. Are you hungry?”

The question comes out of nowhere. She’s so casually speaking that I don’t immediately realize she’s asked anything at all. When I do absorb the question, my stomach rumbles loudly. I move my hand to my stomach.

Yeah, I guess I am.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she laughs. I need to answer out loud. “Patty, can you have someone from Dietary Aide bring up a bowl of soup and some apple sauce, please?”

Nurse Lloyd — Patty — smiles and nods. “Good call. Nice, soft food.” Shifting her attention to me, she continues, “It will be gentler on your throat. It must be sore.”

A high-pitched beeping noise interrupts and Dr. Romera shifts her eyes to the pager anchored to her hip. She sighs when she reads the message.

“I’ve got to get to another patient,” her hand lands on my wrist, gently squeezing. “You really did get lucky.”

Just like that, I’m alone again. The weight of the doctor’s words crashes down on me. Another patient, someone less lucky than me. I should feel grateful. I’m alive. Instead, I’m overcome by sadness.

I’m alone.

No one was waiting for me to wakeup.

Broken

ADRIAN

16 Years Old

The officers in the front seat speak to each other quietly while the radio chatters in the background. I stare out the window as we drive; it’s dark and late, and the roads are mostly deserted. My attention shifts to my hands. The blood on them has dried, and when I make a fist, it flakes and peels. My knuckles have already started to swell, and I push my thumb into the space between the first two, wincing at the sharp sting that radiates up my forearm.

That’s probably broken.

“Hey, kid,” the officer in the passenger seat calls, spinning to face me.

I lift my eyes to look at him. He’s pretty young. I don’t reply.

He’s got a big shit-eating grin plastered on his face, and it makes me hate that we’re separated by a thick wall of Plexiglas with a small opening in the center. When my lips remain sealed, he barks out a raucous laugh and slaps the shoulder of the officer driving.

“He’s a tough guy, eh, Curt?” his tone mocks me, and I return my gaze to the street passing outside. “Come on,” he chides. “I just wanna ask a question.”

I sigh and return my eyes to his but still say nothing. I keep my expression even, bored and uninterested.

“Okay, so, that scene in there was a fucking mess,” he sounds so excited. “What happened? Catch your girl in bed with your best friend?”

“Leave the kid alone,” the other guy says, chuckling.

“No. I wanna know. That other guy was fucked up. I wanna know what he did to earn that kind of beating. Oh! And the girl. She was also bleeding. You beat on girls too, kid?”

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