ASUNDER (I) : tmr newt

37: I'm Recalling

That's my final goal. Before we can live in peace and harmony, and all that klunk I remember hearing about don't remember the conversation or the context, we must be safe. That's the issue at play here. Michelle fears the Gladers, Dawn fears nothing but ought to fear more, and Ella only recently admitted she was named Ella.

Until then, I've got to keep moving.

"You taking that to Ming?" Jeff gestures to the black-lidded bottle in my hand.

I nod my head up and down. For a second I got lost in thought. Right, I came in here to grab an analgesic for Ming, the Builder who fell off of the second floor of the Homestead earlier today. Right now I'm not some big leader, who has to change the world. I'm not in charge, nor am I the only reasonable one. I'm just Leo.

Leo the new Med-jack, who knows what all the different medicines do but can never remember the colour of their lids. Who accidentally gives people shots of adrenaline. Who once bandaged a wrist so tight the poor Slopper had to come back an hour later with a bruise.

I can just be me. A girl who needs to bring a boy medicine. Who is actually solving problems.

"Yeah," I look down at the bottle in my hand, returning my mind to Jeff.

"Don't," he answers. "The kid's leg wasn't even fractured. If he says he still needs that, then what he wants is the blue bottle."

I don't remember what was in the blue bottle, so I stare at Jeff for a few seconds before he sighs.

"Morphine," he shakes his head at me as he carefully takes the bottle from my hands. "Morphine with the green lid for how it makes people feel if they use it too long. I trust you learned enough after we gave you the tour and did inventory for twelve hours for you to know why we don't use morphine."

"Morphine isn't the same as paracetamol, or ibuprofen, or whatever is in the analgesic bottle," I sigh. "It certainly isn't as addictive as morphine, nor is it as potent."

Jeff nods, before handing me back the bottle. "Getting smarter Greenie. Did you find one of the medical books up under Clint's mattress then? Wouldn't he like to know you've been snooping around the Homestead when he isn't around?"

No, I hadn't been. "You do realise the book with all the information is next where we keep the sheets of inventory? I've become familiar with its contents."

He scoffs, but then squints. "You memorized all that in what, a week? Took me a solid month to learn the difference between anesthesia and adrenaline."

I wince at the thought of confusing those two. It wasn't hard for me to remember all that information. Reading would be a harsh way to put it; I more so perused the contents. It mostly felt like revising anyway.

"Maybe you're just a super genius," his smile makes a sound similar to a laugh, but more teasing than actual enjoyment leaves his lips. "Then again, you can't seem to remember the basic colours of our supplies, so maybe not."

I would play along, but I just shake my head. There is no need to tell him that while I don't think I am super smart, it is definitely odd I picked up on it so quickly. Perhaps I would pick up on cooking, or building just as easily. I don't think I would. I am quick, but not that quick.

For some reason I know a lot about medicine. Or at least, can understand it quickly.

Which is odd, probably. I wonder what else I know that the others do not. Maybe I had some form of higher education where I came from, or maybe I was really sick when I was younger so I learnt the names of all the medication I could take, only for the information to be soften in my head by my memories being erased.