Twinsters

Untitled Part 1

PROLOGUe

My head hurts. I try reaching up towards it, employing my natural instinct to protect myself further. My legs feel the weight of lead and I panic for a moment that I can't move. I'm unable to open my eyes and everything is black and red, green and orange; like when you press your hands to your eyes really hard. I hear ringing in my ears, voices too, but I can't make out what they're saying.

"... hear me?" I concentrate hard on what I'm hearing, writhing in pain. My whole body hurts. "...your name?" All I'm hearing are pieces; I don't know what the person wants. I can't even tell if it's a man or woman talking to me. I feel pain in my shoulder and shriek. "good." I don't know what's happening. Someone is rolling me onto my side and I struggle. "I'm....help you... tell....name."

I feel myself being lifted off the ground and fight to hold myself still for fear of falling, as I have no idea how far away from the ground I am. Whatever I'm laying on starts to move and I freeze, keep deadly still as I try to hold my breath. Suddenly I feel something on my chest, and I feel warm breathing. "NO! DONT TOUCH ME!" I panic and try to move away, but hands push my shoulders down, and I hear clearly for the first time.

"Please ma'am, hold still! My name is Hannah, I'm a paramedic. I'm here to help you. Can you tell me your name?" I'm not sure what to tell her. What was my name. I stutter. "uhh." I blink hard, trying to clear my vision. "uhh." I'm trying to focus when I hear Hannah's voice again. "it's ok, just relax. We're going to the hospital. Is there a number in your phone I can call for you?"

The color in my vision returns and I feel my body relax as darkness falls over me. Before I stop hearing, seeing, feeling, I feel something. I can FEEL Hannah scream "we're losing her!" I hear nothing, I feel nothing, I see nothing. I feel suspended in time. Is this what dying feels like?

JACKSON

Jackson was receiving handover in the nurse's station from the nightshift staff. It was a small ward, only ten patients all together. Jacksons patient was the assault victim that was brought in last night by ambulance, she was in and out of consciousness, and she'd had surgery to set her broken leg. This poor girl. She had been beaten up badly.

Jackson focused back on the ward coordinator as he heard his name being called with a patient room number. "room 34, unconscious girl, license says Amelia Aaronsohn, 23 years old. Bought in last night by ambulance, the victim of apparent sexual assault. Broken tibia and femur, both set with rods and pins, with a cast. Monitor vitals and page the senior doctor if she comes to. We will also wait to call the social worker and the on-call psych." Amelia was Jackson's sole patient because she was going to be quite difficult and needed close monitoring in case she woke up.

He walked down the corridor to room 34, his leather shoes squeaking on the Lino floor, knocked, and opened the door. The girl was in bed, she looked to be sleeping. The monitor above her head was beeping loudly, telling him that her blood pressure was low.

He pulled the family chair to the bedside, and made himself as comfortable as he could in the tiny wooden chair, stuffing having been pulled out from a hole worked into the fabric, before examining the girl. She was quite pretty. She was a little bit pale, and the makeup around her eyes had not been washed off, so she looked kind of like a racoon with a bandit mask. I must wash that off for her, He thought.

She had medium length brown hair that looked all sticky and clumped together. Her nose was cute and button like, and she had plump red lips. She looked almost as if she were about to be laid to rest; that is, of course, if she didn't look quite so mussed up. Jackson stood up and went to the adjoining bathroom to fill a bowl with some warm soapy water to wash off her makeup. He grabbed a CHUX cloth and gave the girls face a good scrub. When he was finished, the water was grey and murky and he watched it swirl before tipping it down the drain.