Chapter Fourteen

When I had first opened my eyes, I was met with a blinding white ceiling, and a slow, constant beeping from somewhere next to me. I looked around the room, seeing a bunch of machines and tubes hooked up next to me, one of them connecting a needle in my hand. There was a chair on the other side of me, next to my small, uncomfortable bed.

I then noticed that there was someone lying on the couch across the room from me. It was a woman, who looked to be middle aged from what I could tell by her light brown, slightly greying hair. I studied her face but had no memory of who she was.

I had no memory of who I was. I couldn't remember my name, my date of birth, or even what I looked like. I reached over to the small hand mirror on the table next to me to look at me face, and gasped.

My face was horrendous. One half of my head was covered in thick bandage, stopping just above my slightly swollen left black eye, going down to the back of my neck. The other half of my face was covered in deep cuts and scratches, with a few stitches on a cut under my right eye. My cheeks were also red and puffy, making me look like had two golf balls in my mouth. I tossed the mirror on the bed, not wanting to look at myself anymore.

What the hell happened to me? I couldn't remember anything, no matter how hard I tried. I felt tears prick the corner of my eyes, frustration swirling in my chest, forming a tight ball. I laid my head back down and closed my eyes, letting my mind and body relaxed. Whatever happened to me, it beat the living hell out of me, and it looked like I was lucky to even be alive and able to move. I looked under the covers, and saw my right foot was in a cast, and the other one had large bruises and cuts on it as well, and there was a sharp pain in it when I tried to move.

Just then, a woman walked into the room, looking over a clipboard casually. She walked up to my bed, and nearly jumped when she saw me, letting out a small cry as well. It was loud enough to wake the woman on the couch. She slowly opened her eyes, instantly resting them on me. They popped wide open, and she also cried out, tears forming in her eyes within seconds.

What the hell is going on?

"We're so glad to see you awake, dear!" The middle-aged woman cried, running up to my side. She was careful not to touch me or put pressure anywhere, but she looked like she wanted to jump on me.

"W-what's going on?" I asked quietly, realizing that my throat was dry as a bone. The other woman rushed over to the sink, and came back with a glass of water, which I happily downed.

"Hello, my name is Theresa, I have been the nurse looking over you for the past few weeks."

Few weeks? How long had I been here?

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, alright?" I nodded slowly and she smiled. "Okay, do you know what day it is?" she asked. I shook my head, causing her to frown. "Do you know what month or year it is?" I shook my head again. Theresa looked to the other woman, who then turned to me and smiled gently.

"Do you know who you are, honey? Can you tell us your name?" she asked. I bit my lip, and thought as hard as I could, but shook my head. Her smile dropped, and more tears streaked down her face. Theresa touched my shoulder, bringing my attention back to her.

"I'm going to tell you a few things that may shock you, please try your best to remain calm. I am here to answer any questions you're going to have, okay?" I slowly nodded again. She took a deep breath, giving the other woman another quick worrisome glance.

"Your name is Ava White, you turned 18 on July 21st of 2012, which was 3 weeks ago. This woman here, is your mother, and you are at the Los Angeles General Hospital, because on the night of July 21st, you were involved in a hit and run car accident."

My mind started spinning, unable to register everything she was saying; besides the part of being in a car accident. That explained why I looked the way I did, and why I was in the hospital. Was that also the reason I have no memory? I looked to Theresa, hoping she had more to explain. She took another deep breath, biting her lip nervously as she thought over her next words.

"You had some major internal bleeding and swelling in your brain, and the only way for us to stop that without losing you, was to put you in a medically induced coma. There was a very high chance of you waking up, and in short time," she paused and bit down on her lip harder. "There was also a very high chance of you suffering from total memory loss," she whispered, her voice cracking. She turned her face away afterwards, small drops of tears falling down her cheeks.

"So, will I ever remember anything?" I asked. Theresa cleared her throat, sniffling still a little, before she turned back to me and tried to offer me a small smile.

"There is a possibility you will regain your memories. They can either came back to you slowly over time, or all at once. The important thing is to try not to force them, let the memories come naturally, and maybe ask your parents and friends from before to help you do the things you did before. Sometimes, that has helped people see or do things that trigger small memories." Theresa smiled encouragingly at me, but I felt little hope.

I couldn't even remember my name, or the face of my own mother, which was something I once saw when I was a baby, and almost like now, I didn't even know what a mother was. At least I knew that much.

"So, you're my mother?" I asked. The woman beamed at me, tears still in her eyes.

"Yes, honey, I'm your mother. I'm going to be here for you every step of the way, no matter what. Your father is at work right now, but he will be here as soon as I let him know you're awake. For now, you can just rest if you're tired."

I wasn't, however. With all the new information I had just received, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. I wanted to know how this happened, or why. I had so many questions, but I didn't know which one to ask first. Maybe taking a rest was a good idea, it would at least let my mind relax. I smiled at her and nodded, before putting my head back down on the pillow. Even when I closed my eyes, my mind couldn't seem to sleep. I tried to focus on my breathing, and just allowing my thoughts to drift through, not bothering to fight it anymore.

The more I tried to think of what happened, the more I exhausted myself. I didn't realize, until I was already on the verge of passing out. My mind finally went blank, and allowed me peace.

***

The next morning, I awoke to yet another unfamiliar face. A young boy, possibly around my age, sat across the room from me, in the same spot my mother had been. He was too preoccupied on his phone, I had to clear my throat to catch his attention.

"Ava, you're awake!" He dropped his phone and rushed to my side, a sombre smile on his face. "Do you know who I am?"

I shook my head slowly.

"My name is Sebastian, we've been best friends for a long time, I was there when they… when you were taken." When I was taken?

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice still barely above a whisper. My mother had suddenly burst through the door with a stern look on her face.

"Sebastian, hush." She turned to me afterwards and smiled. "How are you feeling, honey?"

"Everything still hurts, but better then yesterday, I guess." I wasn't sure how to answer that question; how should one feel after waking up in a hospital bed, their body completely mangled, and have no memory of how they became that way? Even if I had experienced this before, I wouldn't remember!

"It's okay, your body is going to take time to heal. You can take as much time as you need." She patted my hand and threw Sebastian another stern look, before she left the room.

"So, I'm here to answer any questions you have about yourself. I practically know everything about you." Sebastian beamed at me, and pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed.

Finally, someone willing to give me answers.

"Can you tell me who I am? All I know is my name and my age."

He sat up straighter, like he was about to deliver a speech.

"Well, your name is Ava White, you love to read, especially comic books. You favourite authors are Hunter S. Thompson, Stephen King, and Anne Rice. Your favourite super-heroes are the Flash, Spider-Man because of your fascination with spiders, and most recently Captain America, because Chris Evans plays him in the new Avengers movie. Your favourite super-villains are Venom, the Joker and Loki from Thor, though we have gotten into many arguments over that subject–"

"Really? How come?" The curiosity was starting to rise in me.

"Because I don't think that Thor should be considered a super-hero, because his origin story is derived from actual ancient folklore, and not some made up comic book story. But Marvel just decided they needed another cool hero to throw into their stories, because I think they're running out of ideas."

"Oh. Well, what do I think?"

"You think that Thor should be considered a super-hero, because he plays into the Marvel Avengers series well, with all the Aliens and bad guys his story brings into the others."

"What are the Avengers?" I cut him off quickly, the questions now popping into my head like firecrackers.

We talked like that for the next hour or so, until a nurse had arrived to check on me, and give me more pain medication. She told me that after a short while, they might knock me out again. Sebastian continued to tell me about myself, everything that he knew, and it seemed he knew a lot. For once, since the moment I had awoken, I felt normal. Though it did feel a little weird, asking questions about myself to someone I had no memory of in return. I almost felt bad.

Sebastian bid me farewell when he saw that my eyes had started to drop slowly, and I was bouncing in and out of consciousness. I watched as he walked out the door, and left it open slightly. I turned over on my side to try and get comfortable, but had stopped when I heard the door creak quietly. I looked towards the door, my eyes barely able to hold themselves open, and spotted a dark silhouette of a man in the doorway.

He had a long coat and shaggy hair from what I could see, and his body posture suggested he looked tired. Just as my eyes had dropped completely, he turned and hastily walked away, leaving me to wonder if I had imagined him. Something in me, though, told me I knew that man.

I knew him very well.