Hospital PTSD

"Rosaline. Don't make me call you by your middle name again." I heard a gruff voice. I moaned and tried to roll over, not wanting to deal with the agitated voice. But a piercing pain radiated up my arm from a taught object injected into my skin. A loud beeping noise radiated in the distance, and I could feel my heart rate pick up. A dreading sense of DeJa'Vu and realization overcame me as I opened my eyes. My heart rate picked up as I laid in the hospital bed. The monitor started blaring loudly as my anxiety increased. I absolutely hated the hospital, I never wanted to be in one ever again.

My eyes whipped around wildly, a part of me searching for my deceased parents. Their gruesome and bloodied faces entering my mind as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. My self-conscience tried telling me that this wasn't real, that I was okay and that everything was alright. The sane part was trying to calm my nerves, but my heart told me that I was ten years old again and reliving the terrifying day that my parents died.

Tears fell quickly down my face. I could feel myself muttering where are they over and over again. But nothing was making sense. Not the blonde-haired man gripping my shoulders, nor the silver haired man that sat next to me on the bed. Their words fell on deaf ears as I tried to push them away. I had to find my parents. They couldn't be dead; they were still alive, and I needed them. I don't know who these people are, but they aren't my mom and dad.

"Rosaline stop this right now! It's us Bastion and Aaron." Bastion? Aaron? I could feel my body starting to turn sluggish. The cloud that had come over my head, slowly faded away. I gripped my head with my hands, tears falling frantically down my face as I recalled my surroundings. My parents were dead. They had been dead for 16 years. The drunk driver that collided with the car, was arrested, and sentenced to live in prison. I shuddered, my body convulsing violently.

"Doctor what the hell is wrong with her?" Bastion angrily spoke, clearly disturbed by what he just witnessed. I suppose I would be too, since they don't exactly know what happened. I kept all of my past stuff in exactly that, the past. It wasn't something I liked to talk about.

"She is suffering from PTSD. Her surroundings caused her to have a brief, flash from the past if you will." That voice why did that voice sound so familiar. It sounded so much older now, but…is this the same woman? I dropped my hands from my head and looked up. I stared in utter disbelief, my sorrow only continuing to grow as I faced her. The long brown hair she use to have, was now gray and tied into a tight knot on the back of her head.

White, was embroidered in cursive on her white medical lab coat. She had shrunk a few inches since the last time I saw her when she told me that my parents were dead. The wall that had tumbled in my mind, slowly began to rebuild its self. Every small particle, coming together to guard my emotions. I blinked a few times, regaining my sense of control. With a loud and tired sigh, I leaned against the head rest of the hospital bed.

"Hello Doctor White, it's been so long." I said blandly. Her mere presence was a wakeup call. No point in crying over spilled milk, my mom would always say.

"I have been watching you for a long time dear. Your parents would have been proud of you, you know." I said nothing as she came closer to the bed. Her old, wrinkled hands grabbed my limp one lying on the bed. She gave me a sad smile. I gritted my teeth, remembering that same hand holding mine so long ago.

"The gash on your head re opened when you clashed with the side table. The scratches on your arms are deep but aren't worthy of stitches. Although I won't say they won't scar. I think you need to lay low for a few days and stop trying to commit act of heroism." I winced at her words, fully knowing she was referring back to the car incident with my parents. I played with the hospital blanket in my hand, trying to distract myself from her gaze.

"I know that the anniversary of your parents is coming up, so please be mindful of your health if you wish to surpass their wishes." She said letting go of my hand. The warmth that was once there, soon turned cold on my skin. I rubbed it gently, wishing that my past would stop coming back to haunt me. My luck was really turning bad lately.

"Oh, and Rosaline. I think you should really start thinking about the will your mother and father wrote out for you. If not for yourself, do it for your parents." With those last words she walked out the door. I stared after her, internally screaming my detest at that woman. I would never stoop so low as to marry for convenience. I told Aaron once, that I don't have the capabilities to take care of another human being. I stand by those words.

"You wanna tell us what's going on Rose?" Bastion asked candidly as he sat down on the other side of me. I continued quietly playing with the blanket, not feeling comfortable with all the attention on me. I just wanted to live a peaceful life doing what I was doing now. I didn't want to be tormented with questions about my past.

"It's really nothing you need to worry about. It's in the past. Where it will stay." I said quietly. Like a child I was throwing a quiet and stubborn tantrum.

"I called Miss Rita. She will be here soon. I know she has an inkling about what is going on. So why don't you tell us so we can help you. I have never seen you so out of it before." Bastion said placing a hand on top of mine, stilling my movements. I gripped the sheet under his hand, trying to fight the urge to rip my hand away.

"My relationship with Miss Rita, is none of your business. I don't know why you bother her with something so trivial. Please refrain from doing this again in the fut-" I was cut off as a disgruntled looking Miss Rita came in, tears streaking down her face. She came stomping over to the bed. She wrapped me in a tight embrace, tears streaking down my neck.

"You damn child, giving me a heart attack like that. How could you do this to me? Aaron explained to me what happened, and you need to be more careful. You are still recovering from your accident." She demanded angrily as she pushed away from me. I sighed loudly, overwhelmed with the people starting to crowd in my room. How did it come to this? When did these people care so much for me that they would all squish together in a hospital room just to comfort me? "

"Miss Rita, how much do you know of Rosaline's past? The doctor said she is suffering from PTSD. She won't say a word." Bastion Grumbled. Miss Rita brushed the hairs away from my face before placing her hand on my cheek. A sad smile slowly creeping on to her face.

"Vanessa Lyle Freed and James Morgan Freed. Ages 38 and 40. Died in a sudden head on collision with a drunken driver. The only survivor of the accident was Rosaline Meredith Freed, age 10. Upon the arrival of the police and ambulance, she was seen trying to pull her nearly deceased parents out of a burning car. The drunken driver escaped on foot, only to be caught two weeks later in his residence. Despite Rosaline's efforts to save her parents, they both died later in the hospital with serious injuries. Both were wearing seatbelts at the time of the accident. The suspect was then charged with two accounts of murder in the court, and one charge of attempted murder."