Suddenly the footsteps stopped - they had found me. They started again, running towards me with more hurry, and I heard one of the men cursing loudly. I recognised his voice, but I was in too much pain to think.
My eyes began to droop and my gasping became worse. I felt like I was going to die – but it was too painful to be death. Wouldn't the world start to fade if I was dying? Cold hands gripped my shoulders, along with a pair of warm hands. I heard one of the men shouting, “Emergency! Emergency! We’ve found her, seriously wounded, get a gurney up to ward 6!” It was Dr. Phillip. He started to swear again. Who was the second man? I was kept on my side, even though the pain was worsening. I tried to move, but my body would only move in small jerks. I tried to raise a hand to my chest, but someone was holding onto both my arms. All I could do was gasp for air.
His face came into my view. His eyebrows were pulled together in a look of worry. His golden eyes had turned rock hard, and his face looked like it might smash into a billion pieces if he kept frowning. He looked at me, and I looked at him.
“Keep breathing!” He suddenly commanded, and I forgot that I had stopped. I tried to shake my head to say that I couldn’t, but it wouldn’t move. He saw it in my eyes. My plead for his forgiveness. He said nothing. He rolled me onto my back, and I saw Dr. Phillip talking into a walkie-talkie. Dr. Cullen’s face crowded my view again, and I saw his same, painful expression. “Breathe!” He said again, and this time, the air flew into my lungs. As soon as it did, an even bigger pain started, and I watched as Dr. Cullen took off his white coat and scrunch it into a ball, and then press it into my wounds. My chest howled with pain; a pain that I thought was impossible to feel. I turned my head to the side, the only movement that it would do. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I was in too much pain to even whisper. I felt a tear trickle down my cheek, and I turned my head back to Dr. Cullen. His attention was focused on my chest, where he still had his coat pressed to.
He looked up at me. I could feel my eyelids becoming more and more weak, and to fight back would only mean more pain. I looked back at Dr. Cullen just before I surrendered and let them droop. The last thing I heard was Dr. Cullen shouting at me to stay awake. I had no choice. Everything went black.
My vision was blurry, but I could just make out the shape of Dr. Cullen leaning over me. The look of worry was still on his face, but his eyes had softened. A pain broke out in my chest and head, causing me to flinch, but at least I could move now. He said something, but it sounded far away. Too far away for me to hear. A sudden flush of morphine in my veins made my eyelids go heavy, and just before I fell asleep, I whispered so that my voice wouldn’t croak, “I’m sorry.”
My eyes fluttered open, eager to wake me up. I found myself in the same hospital room I had been in before, all white and clean. I waited for my hearing to kick in, and once it had, I heard the same sweet, low voice that I was hoping to hear. He was talking to someone else, yet again out of my line of sight. I started to do my own mini checks to pass the time. I moved my head, instant pain. That would be from the fall. I moved my arms, but they wouldn’t budge. Something had them pinned to the bed. Had they… strapped me to the bed? Great. I bet they think I’m insane. I moved my legs, slight pain, probably bruised from the fall. I wiggled my hips. Bad idea. An instant, piercing pain shot through my whole torso, making my eyes water.
Dr. Cullen must have seen, because he was instantly by my side, wiping my tears. He still looked worried. It made me feel so bad to see him so worried. He was beautiful, and it made me feel guilty. He turned back to the other person, saying something that I didn't hear, and then back to me.
“Hungry? I heard you got lost,” He said with a small smile. It brightened up his face when he smiled. It warmed me to see him smiling too. The other person left, probably to get me some food. There was a moment’s silence before he asked, “What were you thinking, walking around a hospital with an injury like that, to only slip over and make it worse?” His eyebrows had gone together again, looking confused. I tried to jerk my wrists free, but they wouldn’t budge. “Let me help you,” Dr Cullen sighed, leaning over me to unstrap my wrists. I flexed my fingers one at a time so that I could check if they were okay. His golden eyes didn’t leave my face. I reached over to him and he stepped forward to allow me to pluck a pen out of his coat pocket. He unclipped a sheet of blank paper from his clipboard and handed it to me.
I scribbled on the paper, “I went to find you. Dr. Phillips said that you were the one to tell me about myself.” And showed it to him.
He read it and said with a chuckle, “He never has known what to say to patients.”
I hadn’t heard him laugh for days, and I smiled. It warmed me inside even more to hear his chuckle. “We found you in Ward 4. Had you not considered asking someone for directions?”
Again I started to scribble on the paper, this time saying, “I couldn’t risk it. To be honest, I didn’t really know what was going through my head at the time. I just had this urge to find you.”
He thought for a moment, before finally saying, “You’re lucky to be alive. A slip like that could have caused you to go into shock, without the pain from your chest. Not to mention you could have bled to death.”
I scribbled a reply, “I was only running because I heard you and Mr Elephant feet.” I smiled, trying to lighten the mood, and he smiled back.
He then sighed, and said, “I’ll get that food for you.” and left.
I woke in the night for the first time since I had arrived at the hospital, and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Soon I heard voices from the other side of my door, talking in hushed tones. It was Dr. Phillips and Dr. Cullen.
“I don’t see what the problem would be. She’s now in a stable condition!” hissed Dr. Phillips.
“But you don’t understand. She may be stable physically, but she is not stable mentally. There’s no guessing what could happen, or how she will take it,” spoke Dr. Cullen, his voice more relaxed.
“Why can’t we just explain it slowly, so she has time to process it all?” Dr. Phillips protested, anger rising up in his whisper.
“Sadness is a far stronger feeling than you give it credit for, Dr. Phillips. If we tell her, she might run away again.”
“But she won’t! She only did it to find you! What if I tell her, so her feelings for you won’t collide with the feelings from finally knowing who she is?” Dr. Phillips hissed.
“Later. At least give her time to recover.” Dr. Cullen said firmly. Dr. Phillips must have agreed, because I heard him turn on his heel and stomp off.
The next few days flew past like a dream. Many tests were carried out on me, and Dr. Cullen helped me to stand up after such a long time of being bed-ridden, but not much else happened. Every day I would be tested to see if I could talk, and every day it turned out with the same result - quiet and croaky. The doctor’s had finally determined that due to the clash of events that had happened, my tonsils had swollen up in protest, and could mean short-term croakiness.
So I was a bundle of joy.
“How are you feeling today?” Dr. Phillips asked me, after helping me to sit up. I opened my mouth, but the same croaky voice came out.
“Fine.” I managed to whisper, and he nodded approvingly. Over the past few days, I had slowly been able to whisper to people, but they had to listen hard to hear me. Gladly, Dr. Cullen had acted as if I was talking normally, and didn’t lean in to hear me clearer. He was the only person who made me feel sane and normal.
“I was thinking… that perhaps you might want to know who you are.” Dr. Phillips said, holding up a folder. I looked down for a second, before nodding. He saw my reluctance, and hastily added, “But if you want me to get Dr. Cullen,” I shook my head. At least I knew he was here.
Dr. Phillips sat down on the end of my bed, flicking his mousey-brown hair out of his eyes. He opened the folder, and started with my name. “Your name is Elora Nichols.” He paused to look up at me. I looked back at him, the name echoing through my head. It was a nice name. The sort that made me feel warm inside. It was so… unique.
“El,” I whispered. It was a nickname I would like.
He carried on. “You were 18 on the 26th of February this year. The date is the 17th of September today." I nodded and he carried on. “It says here that you were beaten by your father. He admitted to beating you nearly every night."
He looked up from the papers again, studying my expression. Something faint was coming into view in my head. I saw a man towering over me, who I recognised as my dad. I opened mouth, and asked him for some money. I must have been young because my voice came out high and sweet. I watched as he swelled up with anger, raised his hand and shouted,
"HOW DARE YOU!" And he hit me across the face. He seized my arms and I squealed in pain. He dragged me to the corner of the room, and threw me down.
I felt a tear roll down my cheek, and Dr. Phillips asked tensely, “Are you in any pain?”
I shook my head, and whispered, “Carry on.” I could tell that he was reluctant, but he read on.
"When you were 13, your mother divorced him, and he killed her in a drunken rage. He kept you imprisoned in his house for 3 years, and at the age of 16 you escaped.”
At that moment, the whole scene flashed before me. I had been locked in the cellar, and when he came down, I hit him over the head with a wine glass. The wine went into his eyes, and the blow knocked him unconscious. It was only when I reached the top step that I felt the pain in my hands. I looked down and saw jagged pieces of glass sticking out of them, and I painfully forced them out.
I looked down at my hands, and traced a finger over the faint scars the glass had left behind. “I had hit him with a wine bottle.” I whispered. Dr. Phillips nodded and carried on, happy with the progress I was making.
“You were spotted numerous times at the edge of the street begging for money, and after a year the police arrested you and took you to your father. He kept you imprisoned from then and on. The police knew none of this at the time, up until they received a call from your neighbour saying that they had heard screaming from inside your house. When the police arrived, they found you unconscious on the floor in a pool of blood. Your father had stabbed you, and he confessed it all in custody. Thankfully, the blade had missed all your organs, and we managed to stabilize your condition in time.
“Are you… feeling okay?” Dr. Phillips asked, keeping a careful eye on me. I nodded numbly. I could remember me escaping and living on the streets, but I couldn’t remember anything after that. “Would you like me to get Dr. Cullen?”
“N-no,” I whispered, “I’m fine.” I felt more tears roll down my cheeks – I clearly wasn’t fine. Dr. Phillips got up and walked to my side.
“It’s okay to say no,” he said in a soothing voice, wiping my tears away. “I wouldn’t be if I were you.” He rubbed my arm.
Dr. Phillips looked at me for a second, and checked the temperature of my forehead. “You need some sleep,” He confirmed. I nodded and wiped the remaining tears away. “I’ll be right outside,” he said, resting a warm hand on my shoulder before turning and reluctantly leaving.
I tried to settle my nerves and get to sleep, but it didn’t work. Instead I listened to the soft voice of Dr. Cullen, as he and Dr. Phillips talked outside my room.
“I told her,” Dr. Phillips said. “She’s defiantly tired, and she did take it quite well,”
“Quite well?” Dr. Cullen asked curiously.
“She broke down in tears. It was quite fascinating though. After reading out the information given to us, she remembered all the small details - apart from one. I observed her reactions, and she didn’t seem to remember anything after she had been taken back to her father.”
“It would have been quite a traumatic experience for her. My guess would be that she will soon remember. Perhaps tonight.” Dr. Cullen said.
“Should we keep an eye on her?”
“Yes.”
I looked out of the window, and at the dark sky. I didn’t want to hear any more of their conversation. I focused on the stars. They were beautiful; glistening like diamonds on a black satin dress.
I stared at the night sky until I finally fell asleep.