The world shifted, her eyes unaccustomed to the harsh lighting welled with tears. Her throat was dry and her stomach felt queasy. If this is what it felt like to be the un-dead then the zombies were having the last laugh.
She blinked several times, trying to bring the world into focus. She tried to wipe away at the tears but found that she could not move her arms. They had been strapped down. Pure undiluted fear blossomed within her, as she tried to move. Her lower legs were also manacled to what now she realised was a bed.
The world tilted and she screamed.
It seemed as if she had been screaming forever before she heard footsteps running. She cringed and tried to dig herself into the bed, to hide away from whoever it was but the restraints held fast.
“Whoa there-It’s okay, you’re safe.” A female voice soothed.
The girl cringed back from the cool hands that were placed upon her brow.
“Do you know where you are? Who you are?” The voice asked.
The girl shook her head.
“You’re in St Damon’s Mental Hospital.”
The girl looked up to see a kindly face looking back at her. Hazel eyes that crinkled when smiling were set in a round chubby face. The nurse’s hair was tied away in a bun that sat a top of her head.
The girl’s fear abated a little, as she watched the woman pick up a thermometer.
“Open wide for me; I just need to make sure your temperature has gone down.” Her tone was reassuring and the girl complied, as she slipped the thermometer underneath her tongue. The nurse waited until a tiny beep sounded then withdrew the implement.
“That’s good – the antibiotics are working. You came in such a state young lady.”
“What happened and why am I here? What about the zombies?” The thought of them made her heart rate increase and she visibly became upset.
The nurse patted her shoulder and smiled, “Don’t worry you’re safe now. The doctor will be in shortly and she’ll answer all of your questions.” The woman reached for a clipboard that sat at the end of the bed and made notes.
The girl began to take in her surroundings, unable to comprehend that she was safe. The walls were so bright; there weren’t any pictures of any kind. Add to the fact they had restrained her also made her wary. The kind woman placed the clipboard back and picked up a pitcher of water.
“Would you like a drink?”
The girl nodded becoming aware of how dry her mouth felt. The nurse poured a glass of water and added a straw and holding it out to the girl to drink. She drank in deep, feeling the relief of the cool water washing away the dryness.
The sound of the door opening caught her attention; the nurse took away the glass as another woman wearing a white coat that held a nametag. It read ‘Dr Morgan’, the woman was tall and slender, her red hair was cropped short making her features appeared sharp. She nodded towards the nurse as she headed out. The doctor approached the bed and smiled.
The girl shrank back from the woman’s penetrating gaze, the smile was forced and the girl felt like a bug that had been put under a microscope.
“And how is our patient today.” It was not a question merely a statement and so the girl did not bother to reply.
She checked the clipboard and read what the nurse had added not a few minutes before. Finally, she placed it back, picked up a chair, and brought it by the side of the girl’s bed. Sitting down she picked a small notebook out of a top pocket on her jacket along with a pen.
“My name’s Doctor Morgan. Do you know where you are?” The woman never looked up instead; she seemed to be staring at her notebook, her pen poised.
“Saint Damon’s” she replied quietly.
The doctor scribbled away in the notebook, “And do you know your name and why you’re here?” again she didn’t look up.
The girl tried to remember her name but still it would not come.
“No – to both.”
“Have you ever heard the name Cate Crane?” She asked, this time she did look at the girl.
The name held a faint hint at something, something that tugged at her memory.
The pain was excruciating, she felt sore and bruised. She had bled, but the over whelming feeling was one of shame. Deep dark shame and pure undiluted hatred. She tiptoed to the bathroom and ran a bath whilst locking the door behind her. She saw his razor and thought of how easy it would be to let it go. It was a tempting thought, but the hatred was too strong to ignore and she wanted vengeance.
She came to with a gasp; the emotions were so strong she had to swallow past them before she could answer the doctor. “Who am I?”
YOU ARE READING
Cold Dawn
HorrorA girl haunted by her nightmares, awakes to a world she does not understand. On the run, a man named Ben comes to her aid and they begin an unlikely friendship. Two polar opposites who are trying to stay alive in a world gone mad, when the girl is h...
