Chapter four

Becca's POV 

White, bright blinding light! Heavy breathing! Pain at the back of my head, throbbing. 

It took a while before I familiarised with my surroundings. I was in Xander's lab, laying surprisingly on a comfortable bed, a gas mask masking my nose and mouth.

I stretched my hand towards my head to try and massage it.

"Don't!-Touch that!" Someone stopped me.

My vision was blurry, therefore I couldn't make out who it was.

I then reached for the gas mask but,

"Or that either." The person stopped me.

'Come on!' I said in my mind, rolling my eyes in complete annoyance.  How then would I ask questions I needed answers to?

I heard the screech of a chair been dragged across the floor, some movements then silence. I guessed the guy had sat down. 

My suspicion was confirmed when he spoke close to my ear, softly and audibly.

"You underwent a surgery, per se, and you are recovering. You almost, you know-uh...but you survived. You'll need the gas mask on for a while until your vitals are perfectly stable and bed rest until the hole is completely healed."

I so badly wanted to yank the gas mask off and ask for how long? How was it, if they found anything or not and what really happened during surgery. I just closed my eyes hoping that the person would continue filling up the silence in the room, say something-positive to be precise. 

At least distract the beeping sound from the monitor. 

"Uh...another thing, Dr. Xander and Dr. Baldowski suggested that you stay here for monitoring, but..." He started but I cut him off by the sudden shake of my head.

"Hey! Take it easy! You have a wound, remember?" The person said, quickly getting up and holding my head in position. He even stroked my hair. I wished at that moment just to have a chance to see him clearly.

He chuckled.

"Okay! I'll tell them you said no. But be careful.-I'll ask you questions and you'll have to use your hands not your head. It's delicate as of now, so for a yes, thumbs up and for a no, thumbs down. Alright?" He asked.

I raised my thumb up, complying. 

The guy chuckled again, I smiled.

That's strange! I fucking smiled, for real this time. Not the fake, deceiving one I give everyone to hide my rage. What was this guy doing to me?

"Do you have any pain at the back of your head?" He asked.

I raised my thumb in response.

"That's nothing painkillers can't fix." He said, moving about again.

I suddenly felt a smooth hand on mine and I squirmed.

"Don't worry! It won't hurt. You've never been on a hospital bed before, have you?" He asked.

I used my other hand to respond, thumb facing down. But if he only knew I squirmed because of the impact he had made when he touched me. I have never felt anything like it before or have anyone give out the same feeling before. 

"You do seem like it." He said, chuckling again, placing my hand back down beside my body. I thought I missed the sensual feeling he left.

"Alright! Vision!-is it blurry?" He asked.

As per the routine, I raised my thumb up again.

He patted my hand softly. I so badly wanted it to stay there. For someone I didn't know and couldn't see at the moment, I sure was hoping a lot from him. He just radiated a positive energy, the one I've never received from anyone my whole life. I was just starting to learn how feelings really worked. To be honest, I hated it. I loved the cold me, the brutal me.

"That's nothing sleep couldn't fix." He said.

'How long was I in anaesthesia? Who are you? Where are my doctors? What did they find? Why can't I see? Can I get answers here?'

I asked only to be replied by the silence in my brain. My frustration grew. I wanted to talk, ask away all those questions. 

The guy must have noted something wrong.

"Are you okay?" He asked. 

"Your blood pressure and pulse is gradually increasing and that's not something positive to say."

'Yes, I'm okay. Just frustrated. Can I get my answers now?' I seemed to reply to myself. Pathetic!

"Just calm down, okay! Relax! Breathe in! Breathe out!-Good! It's reducing." He said with a sigh of relief, stroking my hair again. It was such a good feeling.

I was relaxed and relieved. There's nothing much he said apart from soothing words that caressed so softly as a feather. That was enough to calm me down. The guy needed an award for being the first person I actually was willing to engage with. 

The next time I woke up, I was in my room. It was strange because no one knows where I lived apart from the police. 

My head was still throbbing. I made a move to stroke my hair like the guy I didn't know did. I ended up scratching something rough. I struggled to reach for my phone on the bedside table so as to see my reflection. A freaking bandage was wrapped all around my head.

A loud snore distracted me from my hideous reflection. I struggled to sit upright so as to see the person invading my personal space. I was used to living alone. Just having someone in my house, my room, was intrusive. 

Opposite me was Dr.Xander, slammed uncomfortably on a chair, head thrown back on the back rest, mouth wide open and snoring so loudly, enough to irritate me to the core. At least my vision wasn't blurry anymore I could make out Xander's disturbing position. But I felt a surge of disappointment that the guy back at the hospital wasn't here.

I took the closest pillow I could reach for and threw it at Xander.

"Wake up!" I yelled.

Xander woke up in a start, completely oblivious of his surroundings for the first few seconds. 

"Sorry! I was tired." He said, stifling a yawn, rubbing his left eye and sitting comfortably on the chair.

"How did I get here?"

"The ambulance brought you here." He said as a matter of fact.

"I mean, how the hell did you know where I live?"

"We know you work closely with the police, so it wasn't hard to get your address. They aren't supposed to disclose that information, we're aware, but they understood since it was for a medical cause." Xander replied in response. 

I sighed, shaking my head as I faced down, my gaze fixated on the black floral of my vermilion  duvet. At that moment I decided the colour was too bright. Maybe I should change the duvet to cream.

"It was worth it! You wanted to recover from home, we couldn't go against your wishes." He said, interrupting my thoughts. 

Long silence invaded the room.

"What happened?" I asked acidly, breaking the silence. I was pissed he didn't even bother to enlighten me with the details of the surgery.

"It was a success!" He said.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, barely evident though. I was so relieved. 

"We managed to get your memory and we might have answers to your questions but we won't tell you. We want you to see for yourself. Baldowski is working on the video and it might take a while." 

"Fair enough!" I said. 

Long silence, again. I leaned on my bed rest staring at nothing in particular. I was thinking how my past was and tried to crack my head to try to remember the embers of them, even the slightest clue. Nothing! I only remembered how crappy  my life was before I reached where I was.

"Why are you always cold, Becca? Why is everything you say so brutal, your eyes always scream harsh and dark yet your heart is different? The colour contrast in your house doesn't defy at all the Becca you are portraying." Xander pierced through my thoughts, raising up a topic out of the blue.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm old enough and smart to put two and two together and get four without even much of an effort. You are young, Becca. Enjoy it before you develop grey hair and wrinkled skin with sunken eyes. Find a boy, live life, be..."

"Can you not!- I was born this way. You have no right to tell me what do old man." I bawled, clenching my teeth.

"No you were not!" Xander said, his voice suddenly rising and alarming, ignoring my last statement.

"This is not you. You were never like this. Maybe stubborn, hard-headed but never cold. Your heart never used to be ice, you chose to turn it to ice." He added.

"And how would you know what I was like? You never grew up with me?" I said angrily. 

"Don't knock what you don't understand."

"The truth hurts, doesn't it?" Xander said, shifting on the chair.

"Leave!" I commanded. 

"Maybe losing your childhood memory could have caused this," he said pointing his index finger at me,"But it doesn't explain it and I think there's more to it than that. You are shutting your vulnerable self inside and you're becoming dangerous." He insisted.

"I said, leave!" I bawled.

"See what I'm talking about? You might be stoic, but I see right through you. So, stop pretending.  Be yourself. "

"Can you just get out of my house."

Xander stood up and walked closer to my bed.

"No! You need someone to watch over you."

"I can take care of myself." I spat.

"Trust me! I'm a doctor and every single patient claims so, but it's impossible. Now, where does it hurt?" He asked.

I looked at him in disbelief. We were just from ranting.

"Are you going to just stand there and pretend nothing has happened?"

"There's more to life than petty quarrels. Let's do what is important now, shall we?"

"Unbelievable!" I muttered under my breath. 

"So, where does it hurt?"

"The back of my head." I mumbled. How does he even do that? Normally, if I reach a point in an argument where we are at each other's throats, I'll make sure the latter regrets he or she ever got into an argument with me.

Xander administered some painkillers then sat back down at the chair opposite my bed.

"There's some food beside you if you are hungry." He said.

I turned to my side and that was when I noticed a plate covered by  a single thin ply of serviette.

"How long has it been there?" I asked, returning my gaze at him.

"I don't know. About four or less hours."

"And you are asking me to eat it?"

"It's not bad. It's just a sandwich and a juice box.-I can't cook, give me a break." He justified himself.

I just shook my head and helped myself to the served food.

It sucked! I hated turkey!