Waking up

I wish I could tell you anything about me, but I can’t.  I was told they found me in the woods and thought I was dead.  I was so badly injured, and they have no idea how it happened, was I thrown from a car in an accident, beaten to this state of unrecognizable horror, no one seems to know.

I wake every day the same way, in total darkness but hopeful that today I’ll know something, anything, my name, age, shoe size any tiny bit, but again disappointment welcomes me.

They call me Whisper, that’s how they refer to me.  My voice is barely above a whisper when I speak.  I hear a man’s voice, “how’s whisper,” he asks the female in the hallway, I hear paper being shuffled.   “Same as yesterday and the day before,” she speaks solemnly.  He speaks, “there’s always hope,” I hear the familiar swoosh of a door sliding and his voice is clearer, “Good morning, it’s Dr. Richards, how are you feeling today?”  I nod, it’s hard to speak with the bandages on my face, perhaps that’s why I whisper.  He touches my hand that lays on my lap, today is the day we remove those bandages, you ready?”  I nod, I her the swoosh of the door again and more feet and a squeaking noise, must be a cart of some sort.  Now, we will start in a few minutes, just remember to keep your eyes closed and not to open them until I tell you.”  I breathe deeply and nod. 

It seems as though time is standing still as I wait for some kind of sensation on my face, finally I feel air brush against my skin and the pitch blackness is removed from one eye and then the other, bright orange fills them.  I hear Dr. Richards, “don’t open those eyes yet, we need to dim the lighting in here, shut the blinds and put sunglasses on you, it’s been 8 weeks.”

The lighting dims and the bright orange seems to dull a bit, I feel glasses being slipped on my face and over my ears.  He touches my hand, “okay slowly open them, I flutter my eyes open and then close them quickly, I squint them open and look around.  “Nice to see you Dr. Richards,” he’s an older man, salt and pepper hair, no facial hair, big brown eyes and a sweet smile as he speaks, “I’ll get you a mirror, but your face is still puffy and red, it will calm down soon and you’ll have a few scars but nothing that anyone would really notice.”  I nodded as he turns and gives me a hand mirror.

I take a deep breath and look at my reflection, tears well in my eyes immediately, I pull the glasses off and squint into the mirror and look at my eyes.  I drop the mirror to the bed and tears flow.  Dr. Richards puts his hand on my shoulder, “it’s overwhelming, but it will look so much better in a few more days.  I’ll check in on you later, rest you still have a lot of healing to do.

I don’t know how long I laid there, my eyes closed, when I hear the swoosh of the door and a chippy voice, “Good morning, breakfast is served,” the older woman who delivers breakfast and lunch speaks.   I look around and notice all the walls of this room are glass and I feel as though I’m on a shelf for display.  I’m not a precious item to be admired fondly, I’m a burden to these people or perhaps a puzzle that they just can’t figure out.  I whisper, “thanks,” and she leaves.  I look at the food and push it away, I’m not hungry, I pick up the mirror again and look at my face, my eyes are violet in color and my face is swollen and red.  I put the mirror down and looked out the wall of windows.  I’m high up in this building, the sky is a vibrant blue with white pillowy clouds and mountains in the distance. 

A nurse walks in and smiles kindly at me, “hi, I’m Linda your nurse today,”  I nod and she walks to the machines attached to me and looks at them, “we’ll be taking these off today, since your awake and those bandages are finally off,” she sighs, “don’t worry, your face will look normal again once all that swelling goes down.”

 I look at her as she stares at me,” how old do they think I am?”

She smiles, “we can only guess, but anywhere from 16 – 20,” she bites her bottom lip. 

I nod and look back out the window, “why do they think that?”

She sits next to my bed looking at me, “your past puberty, you’ve had a period, and you haven’t had sex yet.”

I don’t say anything and after a few minutes she stands, “I’ll be back in later to check on you,” she eyes the untouched food, “try and eat something, even if it’s a few bites okay.”

I nod and watch her leave, I shake my head well it’s a start, at least I know something, even if it doesn’t mean much it’s a start.

I watch all day how people just walk past my glass box and peer inside they watch me as though I’ll do something to either them or myself, the glances of some are full of pity, while others seem to fear me.

I watch the sunset and marvel at the colors in the sky, the purple and pinks are breathtakingly beautiful, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve always felt this way or is it just that I think I’ve seen it for the very first time.  The darkness comes quickly, and stars appear, I watch how the twinkle in the darkness.  I lay my head back and try and relax, the moon appears, and the clouds surround it, it’s not full but still has a majestic beauty to its glow.

I close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep, only to be woken by a nightmare that has me flailing in the bed, trying to fight them off, but their teeth and claws still catch my clothes and skin.

Dr. Richards walks in, a fake smile on his face as he approaches, he tells me his name every day, as if I can’t remember it.  “Hi, I’m Dr. Richards,” I roll my eyes at him, “how are you feeling today?” 

My answer doesn’t change as I stare at him, “okay,” I whisper because that’s all I can do is whisper.  Then I shock him with my own question, “can I get out of this bed?”

His eyes twinkle with delight as he nods, “of course, I can help with that if you don’t mind, it’s been a while since you’ve stood,” he extends his hand, “here I’ll help you if you want to try now.” 

I fling the sheet off my body and move my legs over the side of the bed, my feet touch the floor and it’s cold, I take his hand just to humor him and stand up.  My legs wobble a bit, there weak and unsteady, I guess he was right, it’s been a while.  I take a tentative step and my body sways.  I remove my hand from his to grab the bed and turn to quickly and fall to the floor, he reaches down, “are you okay?”

I glare up at him as heat rises in my cheeks, I nod, and he helps me up.  I crawl back into the bed with a sigh and cover myself up with the sheet.  He clears his throat, “any recognition, maybe your eyes?”

 I don’t look the same as before not that I would remember anyway but I’m sure of it, not with the amount of structural damage I heard them talking about, how could I, they created a face for me, graphed skin from my body.  I roll my eyes forgetting that he is looking at me.  He chuckles, “don’t worry about it, something will jar your memory sooner or later,” he turns and walks towards the glass door, “I’ll be back to see you tomorrow and get some rest, I’ll have therapy come work with you to build your strength back up in those legs of yours,” he walks out. 

I sigh heavily, “come on whisper remember something, anything.”