Chapter 7

I woke up groggily, staring around me trying to work out where I was. I could feel my arms and body strapped down. The roof above me was clearly a car and there was something over my nose and mouth. A strange man leaned over me looking me in the eyes. I felt a surge of fear and my heart started beating faster. The fact that I was trapped was not helping me to calm down. He was speaking to me but I couldn't understand him. I was edging towards panic with my breath coming in quicker.

He backed away I think because someone was talking to him. The more he backed away the less frightened I felt. But he was still close, so I stayed in a highly anxious state. For some reason, I started to feel all funny. Sort of like I was drunk. Disconnected from everything around me and a creeping tiredness that I found it harder and harder to resist. I thought I would just rest my eyes for a second. Then I felt the need to open them quickly and see if anyone had crept up on me. Then I needed to close them again. I did this a few times before I couldn't fight it anymore and fell asleep.

The next time I woke up I was in a bed. I had a white sheet holding me firmly in place, but I wasn't strapped down and managed to get my arms out quite quickly. My mind was much more focussed this time so I remembered the attack and really wanted to know what had happened after I lost consciousness. I thought I was going to die.

I had another surge of fear as I recalled fighting for my life and not being able to get a breath. I took a few deep cleansing breaths and calmed myself back down. Clearly, I had survived. I didn't think I was injured, but who knows what occurred after I was out of it. I checked my body over. I didn't feel any soreness down below, so rape was probably out. There was a large bruise over my sternum that was tender to touch, but it didn't hurt to breathe, so my ribs must be OK. I figured that was either from CPR or the punch that Richard gave me before he tried to suffocate me. Other than that I couldn't find anything else wrong with me.

I was a little surprised that Amy or Peter weren't sitting in a chair in the room. They probably had a lot to deal with considering what Richard had done. Despite logic telling me that, I still felt abandoned. What I really wanted was Jen or my mother to come walking in that door, but I knew neither was likely even if they wanted to be here. They probably didn't even know that anything had gone wrong.

I was in a hospital room with an ensuite. I went to the toilet dressed in a hospital gown, no panties. Next to the bed, within reach of anyone lying on it was a big red button. I climbed back into the bed, covered myself with the blankets and sheets, to make myself feel a little bit less vulnerable, and pressed the button.

Nothing exploded, which was disappointing, but a few moments later a nurse came in. She asked a few questions in French. I had managed to get an A at GCSE French, but she spoke so fast that I didn't understand anything. I did manage to say in French, I do not understand. She then spoke slower and asked if I was English and when I replied yes, she told me in broken English, but better than my broken French, that the doctor would be in shortly. She checked that I was OK and not hurting anywhere. Then she asked if I was hungry or thirsty and when I said yes again, she said she would organise breakfast. Or at least that is what I think she was trying to say.

While I was waiting, I tried the TV, but all the channels were in French, so I switched it off. I heard some chatter outside my door and then a doctor came in. I know it was illogical, but as he approached the bed I could feel my anxiety ratcheting up. I pulled the covers up so that only my head was showing and huddled myself together, so that I was sitting up holding my knees to my chest. He stopped quite suddenly, noticing my reaction. Then spoke calmly and gently in rapid French to the nurse who had come in with him. He stepped back from me carefully and took a seat near the door, so there was a good separation between us. The fact that he was sitting also seemed to help. I took some deep breaths and calmed myself down. This was getting ridiculous.

“I am sorry, mademoiselle, I didn't mean to startle you.” He said.

“It's er...not your fault. I can't seem to not react.”

“It is understandable.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“I know that you were found with a pillow over your face, unconscious, but still breathing. Physically you are healthy. The police have asked for you to stay here until they, er..., sort out, er... mess. I will prescribe medicine for your anxiety.”

“What mess?” I asked, trying to get any details.

He just shrugged.

“What about Amy and Peter?” I queried.

He shrugged again. “I cannot tell you. The police will be round later with a translator to take your er... story. I will suggest a female police.”

He then slowly got up off the chair, making no sudden moves, nodded to me, and departed.

A few minutes later, a nurse came in with my breakfast and a pill that she watched me take. Breakfast was fine, even good for hospital food, but a little while afterwards, I think the pill kicked in and I was out of it. I vaguely remember a female police officer come in, realise I was in no condition to answer questions and leave. I think the most I managed that day was a trip to the toilet.

I woke up the next morning finally feeling clear headed again. A nurse came in with breakfast and another pill, this one the same as before but cut in half. I just said no. I refused to go through another day like the last one. Her English was as bad as my French so our communication was terrible and she gave up.

I wasn't quite sure how long I had been at the hospital. My attack happened in the middle of the night. I am pretty sure they gave me a sedative in the ambulance and when I woke up it was morning, but of the same day or the next? Then I was given another pill and was out for another day. I was getting bored and stressed. Whether I had been here two or three days, why hadn't Amy or Peter come in to see me? Why wasn't someone telling me what was going on?

The police woman came back that afternoon and I was determined to get some answers, but she said she was just here to get my statement and didn't know anything. I told her what had happened, remembering to call Richard, Dillan and calling Amy and Peter, mum and dad. She asked why Dillan was staying with us, but I just said that was between Dillan and my parents. I personally, didn't like him.

She left shortly after leaving me confused and anxious. What on earth was going on? I started wondering if it was about the bus experience. Had the mysterious MIB become involved? Why wouldn't anyone tell me anything? I was tempted to phone Jen, but I found that you needed money and I had none. I didn't even have any clothes. All I was left with were hospital gowns and no panties. The lack of panties left me feeling vulnerable and insecure. I had a shower after breakfast each day and took a new hospital gown from a cupboard in the bathroom. There were disposable panties available, but when I tried one on, it was scratchy and I felt better without.

After lunch on my third conscious day, which probably meant I had been in the hospital either four or five days, an American lady entered.

“Hi. Should I call you Sophia or Richard?” She asked me.

“Sophia.”

“Do you recognise me?”

She was a big chested woman and when I looked closely she reminded me of Amy. “Are you er.. mum's sister?”

“That's right. I am your aunt, Gem. We have never met, but I thought Amy would have shown you some pictures.” Then she held her arms open for a hug.

I awkwardly hugged her. You have to say this about big breasts, they make for great hugs.

“Last I heard you were calling yourself Richard and intended to have hormones and surgery to correct matters. Has that changed?”

“Yes. I had an epiphany after I met Jen on holiday and realised I would prefer to stay female. I have stopped taking hormone suppressants and even bought a whole new wardrobe. I don't think I will be a girly girl, but Jen convinced me that women can express themselves however they like. It's great to finally meet you and everything. But why are you here?” I asked her.

“Jen sounds like a very sensible girl.” Gem sighed. “They haven't told you anything, have they?”

“No. Where is mum and dad? I have been here for like, forever, and no one will tell me anything.” I could feel myself welling up. I was getting really worried. They may not have been my real mum and dad, but they were really nice and I was beginning to feel some affection for Amy.

Gem took her shoes off. “I apologise if my feet smell, but I have come straight here from the airport.” She climbed into bed with me and opened her arms for another cuddle. While holding me tight against her chest, she stroked my hair with her other hand. “I have had a few days to get used to the idea, but this is going to be a bit of a shock. A man drugged up on ICE, attacked you and your parents. I believe your parents protected you, but they, er... they didn't make it. I am your legal guardian.”

I sobbed into her chest. Gem thought it was because of the loss of my parents and partly it was. Peter and Amy had been really nice and definitely didn't deserve this. But it was also because I realised this cut away almost all of my support. I felt very alone. I still had Jen and my real parents, but they were so far out of reach now. My poor parents would have to deal with Richard's stupidity. I even cried a little bit for Richard. He was given too much to cope with for a fifteen year old and obviously met an unscrupulous dealer who took advantage of his naivety. At his age you need the protection of your parents, you just don't think you do or want it.