3. The Damaged Ones

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CHAPTER 1 THE RUNAWAY

I drove & drove, and drove. I didn't know where I was headed or who I would be now. What I did know, was that all I wanted to do was get out. Get as far away from the facility as I could and start fresh. My thigh was bleeding, from the gunshot wound I was grazed with earlier. I didn't want to focus on it. I had tied a towel around it, that I found in the car and didn't think anything of it again. Even though I was in a lot of pain. It was raining and I was getting soaked. Everything was different now. It was time to start my new life; but there were things I needed to do first before I could. I found a tattoo parlor and got all my power tattoos covered (not removed); I put all my cash in a bank, getting a debit card and a new ID card with the new name: Jessica Clark. (I don't know, it was the first good name that popped into my head). I wore blue contacts and got my hair colored a dusty brownish blonde. I was officially ready. Welcome to the world Jessica. Back at the facility, all my friends and doctors were starting to give up hope. They couldn't help but think the worst: the possibility that I was either taken or dead. They were all recovering from when I shot them. They considered leaving too; but they made a deal with the devil already and there were no refunds. They'd never been shot before. I didn't feel sorry for them, I've been shot too many times to count. I don't regret anything I did yesterday. I finally had to stop and rest. I found a pretty nice hotel actually, on the side of the road. I drove into the parking lot, grabbed my stuff and painfully stumbled in up to the desk. I was dripping blood onto the tile. There was a man in a nice suit that looked up at me. "Goodness, miss are you alright?" "Please, do you have a room available? I have money, I'll take anything." "You're the girl who's wanted that escaped from that medical facility, aren't you?" "Please, don't call the police. I'm begging you. I won't cause you any trouble, I'm a victim not a fugitive. I'm not crazy. Help me" I cried, shaking. "Okay okay, follow me" he said and grabbed a key. He walked around his desk, towards me and saw my appearance. "You're really hurt. I need to call 911." "No, please! They'll know it's me and the police will come take me" I shivered out. All of a sudden, I heard cop cars pull in.

CHAPTER 2 THAT WAS CLOSE

"Here, get in" he said, opening a secret door built into the wall. It was an electrical room. I slipped inside. He shut the door and they came in. "Good evening gentleman, can I help you?" "Sorry to disturb you sir, but we're looking for a girl by the name of Sydney Gallagher. She's a patient at the local hospital, who is badly injured and really sick. She ran out of the hospital and stole a car. She has been through a lot; we just want her back safely with us, so we can help and take care of her." He held up a picture of me. "I'm sorry to disappoint you officers, but I haven't seen her before in my life; well, accept on tv. I wish I could help you." "Is that your car in the parking lot sir?" "Why yes of course. We hardly ever have guests, but I have to stay and watch the hotel anyway haha." "We're very sorry that business is slow. If you see her, please give us a call" he said, giving him the companies' personal hotline. "Will do, have a lovely night." "You as well sir" they said and started walking out, but stopped. Blood leaked from my leg under the door. I tried not to pass out. They turned around. "Sir, are you hurt?" I tightly squeezed my leg to stop the bleeding as my vision started to blur. He knew he had to quickly come up with a convincing story to not raise any suspicion, to protect me. "Oh no, not again. The paint cans leak from time to time. They have holes on the bottom that I've been patching up, but the special glue I have isn't working." "Would you like some help cleaning up?" "No, no thank you. I've got it all under control." "Alright, have a good night sir. Good luck." They left. He lifted me up out of the compartment and took me to a room, grabbing a first aid kit. "You're going to be okay" he said and laid me down on the bed. He cut my pant leg with a pair of medical scissors, revealing a bloody gash on my thigh. "I'm so sorry. I should've never come here. I'll leave right after you patch me up." "Nonsense. You are staying here. Plus, I'm trained in first-aid. You're going to be just fine. Just relax" he said and I passed out. I woke up in a hotel room in a bed, with a casino t-shirt and huge pajama shorts on. I had an IV in my arm and a washcloth on my forehead. I removed the washcloth and drew back the covers to see my thigh all bandaged up, propped up on a stack of pillows. He came in. I hid under the covers. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm glad you're up and conscious. I brought you something to eat" he said, holding a tray of food. "Thank you" I said, weakly. He set the tray down on the nightstand and sat in a chair by my bed. "Coffee?" he said, offering me a mug. "Thank you." "How are you feeling?" "Not great" I said, sadly. "I'm so sorry that this happened to you. You can stay here for as long as you like. I am supposed to have staff coming in today, but I can ask them to come in another day." "No, it's okay. Do they know?" I asked. "I did happen to mention it; they also watch the news. But they are all on your side. Don't worry, they won't tell anyone. I've asked them to check in on you throughout the day." "I feel like such a burden." "Oh Sydney, don't. We're here for you." "I go by an alias now- Jessica Clark." "Oh, of course. Smart idea. We have a local doctor here, who can treat you better than I can. I called and he should be here any minute." "No, I don't need a doctor! I can't see a doctor; I don't know who's good or not!" I heard a knock at the front door and gasped. "I promise you, he's a close personal friend of mine. You can trust him" he said and left to go get him. "Hello George, thanks for coming. She's right back here." They walked in to find me shivering in fear, with blood leaking out of the stitches and soaking the dressing. He bent down by me and turned back to the owner. "I can take it from here." He nodded and left. "Hi, I'm Dr. Benjamin Gold. It's very nice to meet you. You don't have to be afraid of me, I'm here to help you" he said. I replied with a simple "hi" and a "thank you". "Let's get you to a new room." The staff assisted me to the adjoining room next door and got me situated. The doctor came back in and sat next to me on the bed. "Can I get started? I'll let you know what I'm doing the whole time." I nodded. He opened his bag, pulled out a pair of latex gloves and slipped them over his hands. "First, let's put in fresh IV's; shall we?" He grabbed two saline bags and tubes. "I'm going to take the old tubes out, okay? Just relax. Let me know if you need a break and I'll stop, okay?" I nodded and took a deep breath. He took my arm and pulled out the first tube. He cleaned my elbow crease and let the hole air out a bit. "Okay, I'm going to put a new one in the exact same place. You'll feel a tiny poke. You ready?" I nodded. He inserted the tube into my arm, taped it down and hung the bag on the stand. Then did the same thing to my hand. "How do you feel?" "Good, thank you." "Excellent. Now I'm going to check your injuries. I'm going to have to replace the dressing on your thigh. This is going to hurt a little bit." He began cutting the gauze off. I reached back and tightly gripped the pillow I laid on. I closed my eyes, moaning out in pain. "I know, I'm sorry. Almost done." He cut the bandage off. It was covered in blood & brown liquid. "It's normal for liquid to leak out from the stitches. I'm going to clean around them and wrap a new dressing around the site. Take some deep breaths." He grabbed an alcohol wipe and as soon it touched my stitches, I screamed. "Breathe. Relax." He cleaned my wound and wrapped a new, clean dressing around my thigh. "There, the hard part is over. Good job. Now I need to do the same to your other shot wound on your stomach." He lifted up my shirt and cleaned the stitches on my lower right side of my stomach. He put special cream on my fresh bruises and cuts. He laid me back onto my pillow, put a washcloth on my forehead and pulled the covers over my body. "You're probably the bravest person I've ever met. I'll be back to check on you later. It was a pleasure. Get some rest" he said. I thanked him, curled up under the sheets and fell asleep. They left. "Thanks doc, I really appreciate it." "Of course, take good care of her. I'll be back in a few hours to check on her and administer pain medication/new IV drips." They shook hands and he left. The owner went to do some work while I just slept & slept. Meanwhile back at the facility, my friends were dealing with grief in their own ways- sleeping, crying, feeling anger and guilt sitting in their rooms alone. My friends would hardly speak to each other. They'd barely eat, let alone express a single glance towards one another when passing each other in the halls. Life was different now and it was never going to be the same ever again. I woke up in my hotel bed in the same state as before, except I had new fresh IVs in. The washcloth on my forehead was freshly damp and I had fresh bandages wrapped around my wounds. Along with deep black and blue bruises all over my body. I assumed it had to be late afternoon by now; this felt like the longest day of my life. The manager came in with another tray. "Hi, how are you feeling?" "In a lot of pain, uncomfortable, sad & hurt; all of the above thanks" I said. I actually started crying. He set the tray down and came to sit at the end of the bed, grabbing my hand & squeezing it. "You have no idea how sorry I am for you. I'm trying to ease the pain in any way that I can." "I really do appreciate everything you've done for me, but I can't stay here. I've caused enough trouble for you as it is." "Stop, you have not caused any trouble at all. You're hurt, you can't help that. You need to stay and recover. If you leave now, you'll hurt yourself even more." "Watch me" I said, as I started painfully shimmying out of the bed. I ended up losing my balance and falling into his arms. I loudly screamed in pain. "I told you you were in no condition to move. Here" he said, laying me back in bed. I'm sorry" I cried. "Don't apologize, I had the doctor put in new IV's in your hand and arm. I don't think you're ready for food yet, so I'll take this. Just go to sleep. Your body needs to heal and it needs rest. Good night" he said, put a fresh washcloth on my forehead, turned out the light and left. I must've been exhausted, because I fell right to sleep.

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⏰ Last updated: Feb 02 ⏰

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