Chapter 1 - Victory

92 6 5

The sound of the beeping machines made her stomach twirl, although she had not eaten for a number of days. She wondered if her mind was ever going to cease acknowledging all the medical materials they had stuck to her chest; she had no idea what was the use of them. She did not know they were to monitor her heartbeat, because ever since the incident, her heart had stopped three times. She could not recall what had happened before she was placed in this hospital bed, as if her mind had blocked all previous memories into a small box that was not meant to be opened.

It had been three weeks ever since she was placed in this hospital, and nobody came to visit her.

"Do you know your parents number?" Nurses asked frantically, feeling their palms sweat.

The girl shook her head, her throat not yet healed to allow a sound from her mouth.

"Do you have anyone we can contact?"

The girl shook her head.

She did not have anybody to call, and because not a single person marched in the hospital claiming they knew her, her identity remained as "John Doe". However, to the medical staff's surprise, the girl never cried once. She never showed any sign of content, but neither sadness. She merely woke during daytime, and although had troubles doing so, slept during the night. She never complained — partially because of her damaged vocal chords that needed surgery in order to fasten the healing process.

It went on this way for four months, until one day, a person barged into her room. It was a man that she had never seen before, or maybe that she could not remember. The moment she had laid eyes on him, she could not separate herself from his gaze. He appeared young, maybe around his middle twenties. He had medium lengthened black hair that ran all the way to his jaw. He had a very sharp-shaped jaw, making her mouth begin to water. It was the first time she felt thirsty once again. He was wearing a dress-shirt, his tie loosened with his suit thrown over his shoulder. He was built, his toned pecks and arms having difficulty breathing with his tight white dress-shirt. He was however lean, as if he had worked on his body for years until he finally got his well-deserved masterpiece.

He had very light green eyes, almost appearing blue at times. His skin was slightly tanned, and she noticed the tattoo that ran along his right tricep, hidden underneath his very tight dress-shirt. He was scary, and it caused every sense of calm she ever knew to stop the adrenaline rush from making her try to escape him.

When they made eye contact, the man smirked, allowing only a small part of his teeth to show; she noticed how white they were. His face was flawless, as if he was descended from the sky, carried by angels. His beautifying visage was a masterpiece itself, but there was only one mark. He had a long line that travelled from above his left eyebrow all the way to his left cheekbone. He kept an eyepatch above his left eye, which made her much more fearful of this man. She could not even find suggestions to what could have possibly been the situation that caused him to receive that deep scar.

The nurse that had been checking her situation during the entire four months of her stay, squeezed through the side of the door in order to pass the man that had entered without permission. She felt very uneasy about this man; he did not seem to be a legitimate relation to her patient. However, he did not even flinched, nor did he glance in her direction, all he did was stare at the girl in the hospital bed. His right eye reeked with victory as he stared at her, which caused the nurse to stomp her foot, trying to gain his attention.

He did not budge.

The nurse cleared her throat, "Excuse-me sir? Do you know her?" Her voice was shaky, and she could feel a small drop of sweat run along the side of her face. Relax, she repeated to herself, It's going to be fine.

The man chuckled, "Would I be here if I didn't?" His voice was deep, very raspy and enhanced the dangerous aura suffocating the room.

"What is your relation to her?"

"That's not any of your business, is it now?" He did not break eye contact once, but neither did John Doe.

She gulped; he scares the shit out of me. Instead, she turned towards her patient. Her face was expressionless, and her body did not budge. She remained quiet, and the room had suddenly gone extremely tense. It felt as if everything had gotten louder; the small breeze hitting the window, the sound of other citizens and medical staff members marching in the hallway, the roaring of the vending machine just outside the room, the machine beeping with every heart beat. Most of all, her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

She shook her head, silencing her heart beat drumming in her ears. She needed to comprehend the situation, who was this man? "Do you know him?" she asked with her fingers shaking to her sides. If she shook her head, she was ready to leap towards the emergency button and call security.

Truth was she did not know him. However, the manner in which he stared at her with a triumphant smirk made her re-think her decision. I have a way out, his smirk shouted, I can get you out.

She stared deep within his green eye.

I know who you are.

With that, she nodded.

The man's smirk turned into a wide smile, the ends of his lips stretching from ear to ear. He finally turned his head towards the nurse, raising an eyebrow in her direction.

"You can change John Doe; she has a name."

"What is her name?"

"Her name is Ren, Ren Gundam."

A Stripper's Lost MemoriesWhere stories live. Discover now