Since starting college last year, many nights I would drink myself into a stupor and wake up in a friend's dorm room. Before I opened my eyes, I knew this was a different morning.
Pain spread to my temples and there was unbearable fire behind my eyes. My mouth was dry and a burning sensation spread down my throat as I took a deep breath. I have a little itchiness under my nose. I reached out to grab it and something got stuck on my wrist. I yanked at my arm, but to no avail, the cold metal pressed into my flesh. I pulled my arm again, and there was a clang of metal. I pulled my other hand toward my face, but the same uncomfortable metal ring held me in place.
Pain shot down the side of my skull. I struggled to open my eyes and looked down at my wrist. When I opened my eyes, I saw darkness. I wanted to reach out and touch my face, but I was stuck. Extreme pain in back of hand.
I can't breathe. There was a beeping sound beside me. I opened my mouth to speak, but only a weak sound came out. I closed my mouth and tried to gather saliva to wet my tongue. I wanted to yell, but my voice came out as a whisper.
"Help me." My voice was hoarse. Doesn't sound like me. "Please, is anyone there?"
I balled my fist into a fist and tried to pull my arm up. Another sound of metal clashing
My wrist hurts terribly.
This was not waking up from a drunken night. I didn't drink anything yesterday. I remember walking home from the practice range with music blaring in my ears when someone grabbed me from behind. A big hand covered my mouth, followed by a scream!
The pressure in my chest grew as I tried to break free. The beeping around me picked up speed, getting faster and faster.
"Please!" I cried. When I tried to roll out of bed, I twisted my back. "Please help me!"
The beeps became faster.
There were footsteps. I held my breath and lay back on the bed. The footsteps became louder and louder, and a person approached me.
"Please, please let me go," I said, the footsteps stopping and the wheels squeaking. A hand rested on the top of my head. I jerked aside, away from the man. I gritted my teeth as the pain spread to my neck. Hands running through my hair, I tried to pull myself away from the man.
"Calm down, Diana," a male voice said. "You need rest."
"Where am I?" I asked.
"You're recovering," he said. "The surgery was successful. But that doesn't mean you're okay. I've only had one previous patient, and she died a day after her illness, surgery."
My lips are trembling. The man tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. He adjusted something under my nose that I guessed was the oxygen tube.
"What did you do to me?" I asked. "How do you know my name?"
"I'm not being reckless. I found your health card in your wallet," he told me. "As for the surgery, I will tell you later. I don't want you to worry and affect your recovery."
"No way!"
"Your pulse is high and your oxygen is low," he interrupted. "Take a deep breath."
I bit my lip and used my wrists to pull at the restraints. The man's warm hand covered my wrist.
"Diana, I have to do this," he said. “If you don’t calm down, I’m going to have to sedate you.
You, in your current condition, could be causing respiratory depression, which would undo all my hard work. "
"What did you do to me?" I asked.
The sharp pain behind my eyes got worse. I curled my fingers into the sheets. I sniffed and realized I must be crying.
"Breathe for me," the man said.
I didn't know what was happening, but I knew I didn't want to die. I closed my mouth and took a deep breath through my nose. I did it two more times before I felt the man put his hand back on top of my head.
"Good girl," he told me. "Try breathing through your nose. I'll check you in an hour. If you don't improve, I'm going to have to give you an oxygen mask." He turned my wrist to check it.
"You're always fighting against your constraints," he said. "You shouldn't have done that. Your wrists were bruised and your IV was dislocated. If you survive and make it to the dinner, I want to be able to show you off without any traces."
"What dinner?" I asked.
"You have nothing to worry about yet."
I gasped as I felt a sharp sting on the back of my hand. He pushed on the needle. I listened to the man rummaging through something in a drawer.
Metal and plastic packaging rustled against each other. A cold liquid rubbed against the inside of my arm just below the elbow. He let go of the back of my hand.
"Ouch!" I yelled as another stab hit my arm.
"Don't pull this out," he said. "I won't do it again."
"Please, let me go home," I said. "I promise, if you let me go, I won't tell anyone about this."
The man's chair creaked. He took a deep breath. "I can't let you go," he said. "You will die without me."
"You want to kill me?" My voice became hoarse.
"Kill you?" His chair creaked again. "Diana, that's the last thing I want. I will do whatever it takes to keep you alive. If this experiment succeeds, you will be my greatest achievement."
"what did you do to me?"
"Don't worry, kitten."
The man walked around the bed. Water flows from the tap. It stopped, the footsteps getting closer, and the pillow was pulled behind me. It forces me to sit upright. Something cold touched my lips and I started.
"You need to drink," he said
Water dripped down my chin as he raised the glass. The water felt like heaven on my dry tongue and throat. He took the cup away and stroked my hair with his hand again.
"Take a break," he told me. "I gave you some painkillers and I'll be down in an hour to check on you."
I listened to his footsteps as he walked away from me. A door clicked as it closed. Those painkillers the man gave me must be working. The pain in my temple had subsided to a bearable throbbing. The fire is still burning behind my eyes.
I turned my head to the side and felt something pass through my eyes. I turned my head to the other side, the fabric moving across my face. I tried to shake it off but the pain came back to my head.
I fought my wrists against the restraints, but to no avail. I was fastened to the bed. Pulling on my arm would destroy my IV and he would have to insert another one.
This doctor drugged me? And took my unconscious body to the hospital to perform some kind of surgery on me. What kind of hospital would allow this? Isn't it suspicious to be restrained in bed?
I hold my breath. All I could hear was the beeping of the machine next to me. Where is the nurse? What about other patients? Sounds like I'm the only one here.
"Hello?" I called.
I grunted and tried to push myself up, but I couldn't go very far. I kicked my legs and my ankles were free. I ducked my feet across the bed until I was at the edge. I tried to untie the blanket from my feet. The cold air touches my toes. I dragged my other foot across the bed. I punched a plastic tube. I felt what it was with my toes and found it between my legs. My feet dangled over the edge of the bed. I wanted to melt out of bed and collapse on the floor. I swung my feet down but I couldn't feel the floor. My wrists stopped me from falling any further. I pulled myself back onto the bed.
The man told me I needed to rest or I would die. I needed to calm down until he let go of my wrists and took over closing whatever was covering my eyes.
I leaned back against a pile of pillows and tried to clear my mind.
I cried out as my head was pushed forward. I reached out to push the person away, but the metal dug deeply into my wrist. Before I rested against the pillow, something was fixed to the back of my head. The plastic dug into my face and surrounded my nose and mouth. A gust of wind blew in my face.
The "mask" on my face didn't move. A hand rested on the top of my head.
"Breathe, Diana," the man said. "Your oxygen levels are low."
He is arranging the blanket
I kicked it away!
"I told you to rest," he said.
"I am," I said. My voice echoes through the mask. "I move in my sleep."
He took a deep breath.
"What hospital is this?" I asked.
"You're not in the hospital." The chair creaked and he turned over towards me. "You're in my lab."
"Please let me go," I said. "Let me go to the hospital."
"I can't let you go," he said. "You needed me. You went through a very unique surgery and you needed me to survive. You've outlived my other patients."
"How many more people are there?"
"You are Patient No. 12"
There was another beep, but this time it was higher pitched and faster. It sounds like a phone call "You are patient number 12"
There was another beep, but this time it was higher pitched and faster. Sounds like a cell phone.
"I have to accept it," he said. He patted the top of my head. "Get some sleep."
The chair creaked and his hand left my hair.
"I'm Dr. Sweeney," he said. "Ah, yes, Mr. Carlisle. How is your new kidney doing?"
His voice faded away as he moved further away from the bed.
