Over the Edge

Ch.35-Identity Theft

~Emmalyn~

My head hurt.

My body felt like lead.

That was the only thing I knew when I woke up.

Nothing else.

Not why I was waking up feeling like this, not where I was. I glanced down at myself, but it seemed I was in a hospital of some kind. Did something happen?

I couldn’t remember.

The door burst open and I released a startled yelp. Some lady in a long white coat stood there, smiling softly at me.

“W-who are you?” I questioned, voice shaky. “And what am I doing here?”

Her smile faltered, but her eyes remained warm, as if she was expecting my question. Expecting it? Why? A man dressed the same way stepped in beside her. She whispered something in his ear and I watched him nod knowingly. What?

The man ducked out of the room and the woman approached me slowly. I shrunk away from her, retreating further into the scratchy cotton blankets. I tracked her every movement as she flicked off the switches of some machine beside me. The humming silenced. Several cords were pried off of my skin, leaving me feeling cold and bare.

The woman approached me, the smile never leaving her face. “Hello, dear. How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” I snapped in reply. I winced at my own harshness. “Why are you here? Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital,” she explained slowly, like she was talking to a small child.

“But why?” I questioned.

“Baby steps, dear, please. Let’s start out slow. What is your name?”

“It’s—” I trailed off after a long moment’s thought, in which my mind came up completely blank.

I couldn’t remember.

Not a thing.

It was like my head was a blank sheet of paper with nothing on it, encouraging me to fill it, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t find the words to write.

“I don’t know,” I finally whispered, shoulders falling in defeat. I turned my teary eyes up to look at her. “I don’t know.”

She reached out a hand to touch my face, her actions belying nothing except the intent to comfort, but I jerked my face away.

“What happened?” I asked her, drawing my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on them. “Who am I?”

She dropped her hand to her lap. “Emma—”

I pitched forward at the name. It was undoubtedly mine, and yet I felt no familiarity, no rightful claim. It was simply a word, like bed or hospital. Said with no deeper meaning to my ears.

“You got in some trouble,” the nurse commenced, voice gentle and soothing. “Do you remember a man by the name of Mike?”

I didn’t. It was just another word. Mike. And yet at the sound of the name rolling off her lips, unease burned through me, ice trickling down my veins; a hot and cold sensation that left me breathless. “I do not.”

She swallowed hard. “Do you remember anything?”

I was quiet, staring hard down at my hands curled against the hospital bed sheet. I tried and tried and tried to remember, to recall a shred of anything, but there was just nothing. An empty void bereft of any and all information.