Chocolate and Peppermint

I was amazed that no one had yet to get me a glass of ice chips, but what was I expecting? This clearly wasn't that good of a hospital.

"What happened to me?" I asked, letting out a small huff of air. If they were going to talk over me, they could at least answer my question before getting the hell out of my room and letting me sleep.

"You don't remember?" replied the woman, rubbing the top of my head in a manner that reminded me of what my mom used to do when I was stressed or upset. It wasn't like I hated it, so I would let her continue. But only until I understood her endgame.

"I think it is clear that she doesn't," said the doctor. I could feel him leaning across my face, ready to shine that frigging light into my eyes again.

"You were hit by a car on your way to school," continued the woman, answering my question in a very low voice. "I am so sorry. Mommy should have been there for you."

I scrunched my brow, trying to force my eyes open, but it just wasn't happening.

"Could I get a wet towel for my eyes, please?" I asked. It felt like they had been glued shut, so maybe soaking them with a wet cloth would help.

"Of course, baby. I'll go get one for you from the nurse." There was a scurry of footsteps before the door opened and then closed again.

"What is the last thing you remember?" demanded the doctor now that the woman was gone.

"Not that," I assured him.

"Do you know where you are?" pressed the doctor, running through the standard questions that normally followed a brain injury.

"Hospital," I snapped back. I was starting to feel a bit panicked. Something was definitely wrong. I shouldn't be alive, so how was I?

"That is correct. You are currently at the General Hospital in City A. Do you know what country you are in?"

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was what set me off from a minor feeling of panic to an all-out panic attack. I had never heard of City A; hell, there wasn't a single city in the world that was named after a letter. 

I was clearly not in Kansas anymore, let alone Toronto.

The patient monitor behind me started to go off, the alarm letting everyone know that my pulse was through the roof.

"You need to calm down," said the doctor as he gripped my wrist tightly in his massive hand. Just how big was he that his whole hand could encompass so much of my wrist and forearm?

And if I could calm down, didn't he think that I would have done it by now?!?

But I was essentially blind, in a city that I had never heard of, with a woman claiming to be my mother. If anyone was entitled to a panic attack, it was me.

"Nurse!" shouted the doctor when a new alarm was set off. I could only assume that that one was for oxygen absorption, seeing as I was finding it hard to breathe.

"I have the midazolam," answered a new woman, and I could hear someone gasping just as the cold liquid flowed through my veins.

"We need to get her scanned now. Contact radiology and get her in," snapped the doctor, still not letting go of my wrist.

I pulled fruitlessly, trying to get free, but he only clamped down harder.

I could feel my body start relaxing, thanks to the new drug, but my brain was still going a 100km an hour. I needed answers, and simply drugging me every time was not going to get me what I needed.

Taking in a deep breath, I tried to force my brain off and sink back into oblivion. Hopefully, the next time I woke up, I would be back in Toronto.

-----

"What is going on?" came a voice in the darkness as I clawed my way to wakefulness.

"Honestly? I have no idea," came the tired sigh of a new male voice. I sniffed, trying to get his sent. He smelled like chocolate and peppermint, and I couldn't stop the smile on my face as I breathed him in.

"It looks like she is waking up," he continued softly as I felt fingers stroking my face. His hand was so big and warm that I just wanted to snuggle into it.

"Okay, Princess. Do you think you can open your pretty eyes for me?" hummed the doctor, and I tried my best to do what he said.

"It still feels like they are glued shut," I complained, not liking how young my voice sounded. But I knew it was only because I was stressed and anxious. People always sounded younger when they were unsure or felt unsafe. I was no different.

I felt a warm cloth wiping my eyes gently, the smell of peppermint even closer to my face.

"You smell good," I muttered, the drugs still clearly in my system. I made a point not to mention how someone smelled. The last thing I needed was to get a nickname like hound dog again.

The cloth paused for a second before it continued to clean my eyes. "Thank you," came the reply. "I would like to say the same, but all I smell is the hospital, and no one finds that pleasant."

"At least you aren't complaining that I smell like I need a shower," I replied with a shrug. God only knows how long I had been in this bed without a proper shower.

The cloth continued to wipe my eyelids for a moment before the smell of peppermint grew fainter.

"Try it now," said the new doctor, and I opened my eyes to stare into the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen. "That's my girl," he continued, and I could see the smile on his face growing.

I tried not to take offense when he called me a girl. It made me feel like he was talking to a child, and I was definitely not.

"I think your tears managed to glue your lashes together as they dried, but then someone must have checked your eyes, ripping a few lashes out," said the doctor as he continued to look down at me.