It was blank. Dark, and blank.

The first thing I remember - ever - is that moment, waking up in the hospital bed.

My mind began to buzz emptily behind my closed eyelids as I took in the strange, chemical smell in the air. I let my eyes half-open to take in what was going on.

I looked around, blinking, taking in the brightness of the cool atmosphere. A loud beeping. A thing that looked like me coming in and taking a seat.

"Hey there, kid. How are you feeling?" The kind voice asked calmly. Plainly. A practiced phrase.

I didn't know how to reply. Empty?

"Can you understand what I'm saying? Can you tilt your head up and down if you understand?" The figure sitting with me was a she.

I managed a slight tilt in confusion, but as I let my thoughts settle I began to find the meaning behind her words. I tensely nodded for her to continue.

"When we found you, you were already passed out. Unfortunately, by the time we got you to the hospital your blood flow had slowed tremendously, due to lack of, and brain cells were damaged from the lack of oxygen. Do you understand?"

The sound came through my ears and passed just as quickly. I stared, and in noticing my confusion she began to pull out a set of thin, white, fluttering things.

"Do you know what these are? Tilt your head up and down if you do."

I tilted, barely. It took all my energy to pull my head back and drop it again. They were papers. Papers. The word lodged itself in my mind.

"This is a car." She used her finger to show me.

I looked at the colours, and words started coming back to me.

"Red." I said. I was too dazed to gauge her reaction. Yes, red. It was red. And those things, those... round things! Those are black, and they're... wheels. I felt relieved that I could finally begin to understand what was going on around me. The squiggles under the car began to make sense, and when the nurse switched the cards, I was able to read the words under the next before I looked at the picture.

"Train."

She flipped the cards again. And again, and again. Over and over.

"Fork, bed, house, tree."

Putting away the cards, she handed me a small, hard book and asked me to read the first sentence out loud.

"The car drove past the sign."

"Good, Callie. Can you say that in different words now?"

Callie. My name... is Callie? Yes, it is. Callie. Callie. Callie.

"Could you say that sentence in different words now?" The nurse repeated patiently.

I took my time in the reply, twisting what words came to me into a comprehensible sentence.

"The sign... The car passed the sign? While... while driving?"

"Alright. You're doing great. Now, what can you remember before the accident? Do you remember what happened to you?"

Silence jabbed at the words I couldn't say. How could you say that you remembered nothing? Nothing at all?

The nurse noticed my discomfort and quickly changed the subject, jotting down a note on the clipboard that had somehow appeared in her grip.

"Do you understand what a city is? Coma?"

I nodded at both.

The nurse gave a slight nod back and left the room. Taking another look around, I found a side-table, a window, and flowers bursting with colours.

On my arm, I found a faded tattoo.

C-A-L-L-I-E.

My name! It was my name, on my arm. For a strange reason, my heart thrummed at the idea of my observational skills.

I leaned over towards the side table next to the bed and pulled the clipboard onto my lap. I guess the nurse had left it there for a reason.

Callie. Last name unknown. Stab wound to right leg, infected, the page read.

Weird. I can't feel it, I thought as I reached down. My hand felt a bandage as I slid it down my leg, and then a weird curve. My left hand went down the other leg, noticing the curve wasn't the same. I let my hands follow their own curves, only to find my right hand back on my inner thigh and my left at my knee.

What happened to my leg?

As if reading my thoughts, the door burst open and two white lab coats came in, with the nurse trailing. I basically threw the clipboard on the floor to hide my snooping, but I got the feeling it made me look more suspicious. The nurse gave me a warning with her expression, but it faded quickly as if she had just recalled my situation.

I had too many questions. I started with a simple one. "Who are you?"

"We are the doctors that have been caring for you since you came into the hospital," one explained swiftly.

"You were the ones that cut of my leg?" I didn't hear my temper through my voice so much as through my thoughts. Through the questions that kept stacking on top of one another in my mind. The questions were angry, so I was too.

"Calm down, Miss Callie," the first doctor replied, arms raised defensively. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Your leg was infected due to a stab wound at the back, lower thigh, and measures had to be taken to ensure you would survive. Now that you're awake, we can begin fitting."

Fitting?

"Fitting for an amputated leg," he squeezed in quickly.

"But how did I get stabbed? How come I can't remember?" Why are you all acting like losing a leg is no big deal?

"Unfortunately, we don't have -"

Another voice interrupted the first doctor.

"We don't know why, but you were presumed dead - with a stab wound to the leg - and left to die near the entrance to your hometown Syphen. Our troops found you and brought you back to be helped." The second doctor took the seat next to my bed and dragged it closer, resting his hands on the hospital sheets.

My jaw went slack as I stared in confusion. How? When? Why can't I -

"You can't remember because, as the nurse might have told you, some memory was lost due to lack of blood flow to your brain. All the blood went to your legs, because of how you were positioned, and your brain cells began to diminish." The second doctor seemed to know a lot more about the situation than the first, which is probably why he did the rest of the talking.

Some memory? Some? What on earth? So many questions swirled in my half-diminished brain, but only one came to my lips.

"Where am I now?"

"You are at Liken Regional Hospital, and I am going to take care of you from now on."

"I don't even know who you are! How could you expect me to trust you? You cut off my own leg -"

"For a reason. Would you rather have died underground?"

Underground? So many questions...

"What do you mean by take care of me from now on?" I asked cautiously. "Am I going to be stuck here the rest of my life?" I felt the urge to yell, scream, a new and strange sensation.

"No, you won't be. I'll be taking care of you at my home." He squinted his eyes preparing for my reaction.

"So... You're adopting me?"

"I guess so, yeah."

"I guess you won't be a stranger for long, then, huh?"

"I guess not," the doctor said, a smile playing about his lips.

~~~~
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