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“Who are you?” I whisper.
My hand falls back into my lap. I have no strength to hold it up. I have no strength to keep my eyes open. I have no strength to even breathe. I fall into the darkness with the sensation of flying amongst the shadows.
With my dark, guardian angel.
Dee – 1 Year Ago
Crawling by Linkin Park
I wake up in a white sterile room that smells like antiseptic. I’m in a plain, scratchy hospital gown, and light coarse blankets cover my lower half. I push myself up into a more seated position and as the blood starts to flow, the throbbing in my face becomes more prominent. My entire head feels like one big heart beat. I can feel my head pound with each beat of my heart so fiercely I’d swear you could see it growing bigger with each pound, like a living, breathing cartoon head.
A nurse walks into the room, her bright red hair is plaited into a braid that hangs over her shoulder. Her warm grey eyes meet mine and they immediately put me at ease.
“Oh good, you’re awake. My name is Sarah, how are you feeling, Wendee?” Her voice is soft and sweet, just like the rest of her energy, with a hint of an English accent. She smiles genuinely as she approaches and picks up my chart from where it hangs at the foot of the bed.
“Ummmm, I’m ok,” I mutter. “What happened?How did I get here?”
“You don’t remember what happened?” She asks, as she looks directly at me. Her question isn’t accusatory though, she looks more concerned than suspicious.
I think back, trying to recall the last thing I remember. I reach for memories that just don’t seem to be there. Maybe I’m just having a hard time remembering what happened because my head is throbbing so fiercely.
“My head,” I cradle it in my hands. “Can you give me something for the headache?”
She moves to the table on the side of my bed. She hands me a little paper container with two pills in it and hands me a glass of water. “Here,” she says softly, “it’s just some Asprin but will help with the pain.”
I take the pills and the water, downing them quickly. Sarah takes the empty glass of water and sets it back on the table, then she sits on the side of my bed holding my chart in her lap.
“Now tell me, what’s the last thing you remember?”
I sigh and sink back into the pillows, thinking back on what happened and trying to figure out how I got here. “I remember… I was, ummmm, getting ready for a date. I remember dinner, and drinks.” I lick my suddenly dry lips. The fact that I’m in a hospital is starting to sink in and I can feel my panic rising.
Sarah must see the fear and strain on my face because she grabs my hand. “It’s ok, Wendee. You’re safe. You’re ok.” Her words prompt a memory of vivid blue eyes and a deep voice.
It’s going to be ok, Wendee. You’re going to be ok. I’ve got you.
“How did I get here?” I ask again. “Who brought me here?”
Her eyebrows crease in confusion as she looks down at my chart again. “There’s no documentation of anyone bringing you. It says that a nurse found you in the lobby, alone.”
I close my eyes and I can see the deep blue eyes clearly. Cold and furious as the ocean itself. Did I imagine him? Did I dream him up?
“Do you remember how you ended up in the lobby?”
I shake my head.
“Well, how about I tell you what you told us when you got here, hmmmm? Maybe that will spark some memories for you?”
I nod but I’m terrified to find out the truth. “Ok.”
Sarah clears her throat. “Well, like I said, it looks like a nurse found you in the lobby. You were sitting on a chair alone. No one saw you come in or how you got there. When she asked if you needed help, you said…” she stops and looks at me, sadness filling her eyes, “you said you had been raped.”
I suck in a shaky breath. I was raped? Oh God, what the hell happened last night? I feel the tears building up and pouring over my cheeks before I can stop them.
Sarah continues, softly, “You gave us permission last night to do a rape kit. There was evidence of…penetration, but there was no trace of semen. Can you tell me anything at all about what happened before you got here? Even the smallest detail can be helpful.”
I shake my head, the tears falling furiously and the emotion is so thick in my throat that I can’t speak, even if I had something to tell her. Which I don’t. All I remember is getting ready for a date, and then fear and panic so intense that I feel it now, all over again. It feels like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. It fucking hurts. Then I remember the taste of blood, the smell of cigarettes, and the feeling of the cold, hard brick tearing into my cheek. I lift my hand up to feel my cheek, but it’s been bandaged.
“You had a pretty rough cut on your left cheek,” Sarah explains, as she sees me reach for the wound. “Your lip was also busted and there’s a small crack in your right cheek bone. All will heal in a few weeks.” She grips my hand before she lets go and stands. “I’ll let you rest and hopefully you can tell me more when I come back.”
