The Departed

The whole world was moving in slow motion. Bright white lights were spinning above me as I lay flat on what seems to be a mattress.

"We've got a Jane Doe," a young man says as I start to feel myself being pushed down a never ending hallway. "Seems to be in her late teens, she has multiple fractured ribs, a collapsed lung and possible internal bleeding and head trauma."

I try to speak to tell them my name, but nothing comes out.

"We need to get this girl into the OR, stat." another doctor says before I succumb to the darkness.
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My eyes slowly start to flutter open and pain shoots through my entire body. I begin to use my arms to help me sit up, when a nurse comes running in the room just in time to stop me.

"Honey, you can't sit up quite yet. You'll pull out your stitches." she says as she adjusts the pillows behind my head.

"Is my mom downstairs grabbing a coffee?" I ask the nurse with a small smile. "She's always the first to come see me in the hospital."

The nurse continues to check my IV fluids in silence.

"She's not here yet, is she? Is my dad here? Or my sister?" I try again.

The nurse walks out of the room without saying a word, leaving me confused in bed.

A short moment later a young male walks through the door.

"My name is Dr Kingston, but you can just call me Wren." The man says in a British accent before taking a seat next to my bed.

"Do you by any chance have a name?" Wren asks as he opens his briefcase -which I didn't notice him carry in-and pull out a file and a notebook.

"I get it," I say shaking my head. "You're a shrink."

"Precisely. I was brought here by child services."

"Why am I in the hospital?" I quickly ask.

"I'll tell you everything when you give me a name."

"Spencer. Spencer Hastings."

"Well Spencer," Wren says as he writes my name on his notebook. "I'm afraid to say I have to start our session off with some bad news."

"W-what do you mean bad news?!"

"I'm sorry to inform you that two night ago, you were involved in a car crash. You were the only survivor."

I sit in shock as Wren continues to tell the story.

"You and your family were driving along the freeway, when a drink driver hit your car at 80miles per hour. Your mother, father and sister did not survive. I'm very sorry, Spencer."

Tears slowly start to pour down my cheeks. I stare blankly at the wall across the room, trying to remember the events of that night.

"You're lying," I say as I turn to face Wren. "Is this some kind of sick April Fools Joke? If I were involved in a car accident, I would have remembered!!" I say as my voice increases in volume.

"This is very common for people who suffered from a head trauma, Spencer. Acute amnesia is expected."

I stare at him blankly.

"You were ejected from the car, Spencer. You went right through the windshield. For the record, you were wearing your seatbelt."

Wren picks up his briefcase and pulls out his cellphone. He hands me his phone, which displays a picture of what was left of my moms SUV.