The Nuisance Across The Hall

Eighteen: Tests, Stitches, and Pudding

I opened my eyes and immediately squinted because of the white fluorescent light above me. My head instantly began pounding as if it were trying to escape my skull. I groaned and closed my eyes again, hoping to dull the pain.

"Naomi?" I faintly heard my name from somewhere in the room.

"Hmm?" I answered, afraid to form an actual word just yet.

"How are you feeling? Can you open your eyes for me?" I heard clearer than before.

I hesitantly opened my eyes. I tried ignoring my raging headache from the light. I blinked a few times before my eyes adjusted to the light. When I could finally focus on the person talking to me, I realized I had never seen him before.

He had neatly combed black hair and a nicely shaven face. He had on light blue scrubs and a white coat. I squinted to read his name but it hurt my eyes and brain to focus that hard.

"Can you follow my finger with your eyes?" He asked, holding up his index finger. He moved it around my face and I kept my eyes locked on his moving hand. "Great. Could you try saying something for me?"

"Who... Who are you?" I managed to mumble out.

He gave a caring smile and said, "My name is Dr. Haase. Do you know where you are?" He asked me in return.

"Probably a hospital," I said with irritation. My head pounded and the last thing I wanted was to be talking or even awake. Napping this off seemed like a better idea.

Dr. Haase slightly chuckled and picked up a clipboard from the table next to my bed. "I know you probably want to go back to sleep but it is imperative that you don't. You acquired a mild concussion during the accident. You're lucky, Ms. Jackson. You could have been hurt far worse."

Accident. That word jogged my memory back to what had happened. I remembered the flying glass and the screams. My heart began pounding much harder in my chest. The monitor I was hooked to notify the doctor of my change in stability started to beep faster.

"Whoa, hey now. You need to calm down." He tried soothing.

"Where is my daughter? Her name is Sophia, she's four years old and has blonde hair. Where is she?" I almost screamed. The sharp pains throughout my body had completely vanished thanks to the adrenaline. I sat up and looked around the room frantically. It was just me and Dr. Haase in the room.

"You're daughter is fine. She was hardly injured, as well as your friend, Skylar Taylour. You were impacted the most, seeing that you were hit on your side of the car." He said, calming me slightly.

"Where is she? Can I see her?" I asked, still worried.

"She should be almost done getting stitched up. Ms. Taylour is with her now." He answered.

"Stitched?!" I exclaimed.

"Just a little gash on her arm. Only required four stitches. She may not even have a permanent scar, and if she does, it'll be very faint." He reassured. "You, however, were a different case." He said grimly, gesturing to my left arm.

I looked at my arm and saw it covered in little scratches and bruises. Right above my elbow was a wound running up my arm for at least four inches that had been stapled together. "How long will this take to heal?" I asked him, checking the rest of my body for any major injuries.

"You will need to come in again for reassessment and for staple removal in nine days. From there, we will decide if stitches will be necessary or not. Unlike your daughter and friend, you will be left with some scarring, but nothing too dramatic." He explained.