Hospital
The hospital room was sterile and quiet, the hum of machines the only sound breaking the stillness. Two weeks had passed since I was found, beaten and unconscious, in that warehouse. Two weeks since I’d slipped into the void of a coma. My family visited every day, but I didn’t know that. Time passed in an endless, dreamless blur until, at 11:49 AM, my world came roaring back.
I woke to a harsh light and a tube constricting my throat. My body felt foreign, heavy, and weak. Panic clawed at my chest as I struggled to understand where I was. The sound of footsteps caught my attention, and a nurse appeared in the doorway. Her face softened with surprise and relief.
“Oh, sweetie, you’re awake!” Her voice was gentle but carried the weight of long, tense hours. She moved quickly, leaning out into the hall. “Mrs. Jacobs, your daughter is awake!”
Mom’s voice echoed faintly, frantic and disbelieving. Moments later, she burst into the room, tears streaking her face. She crossed the space between us in a heartbeat, her hands smoothing my hair and brushing tears from my cheeks.
“Jamie, oh my sweet Jamie,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You’re safe now. You’re back.”
I wanted to speak, to tell her how much I’d missed her, but the tube in my mouth held me silent. My tears flowed freely as she held my hand. The nurse gently touched her shoulder.
“Mrs. Jacobs, we need to remove the tube. Please wait in the lounge while we work.”
Mom hesitated, looking back at me with teary eyes. “I’ll be right outside, sweetheart,” she promised before reluctantly leaving the room.
When the tube was finally removed, I could breathe again. My throat burned, but the relief of being untethered was overwhelming. I lay back against the pillows, exhausted and dazed. A nurse adjusted the IV line at my wrist and smiled.
“Don’t try to talk too much just yet,” she advised. “Rest your voice.”
Mom and Jessica returned shortly after, both of them cautious but relieved to see me awake. Mom smoothed my hair while Jessica perched on the edge of the bed.
“I missed you so much,” Jessica said, her voice breaking. Tears welled in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. “We’ve been so scared.”
I tried to smile, but it felt weak, hollow. My mind was a storm of disjointed memories and unanswered questions. How had I survived? What had they done to me in that warehouse? And the machine… What had it really done?
Later, my best-friend Tony, arrived with flowers and a balloon. His presence brought a bittersweet comfort. He was hesitant at first, sitting at the edge of his chair as if afraid to disturb me.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he said quietly, his eyes fixed on mine. “I was so scared, Jamie.”
I squeezed his hand, tears slipping down my cheeks. “Me too,” I whispered, my voice rasping. The emotions of the moment overwhelmed me, and before I could stop myself, I asked, “Tony, will you… will you be my boyfriend?”
His eyes widened in surprise, and he hesitated. “What?” he whispered.
I nodded, forcing a small smile. “Unless… you don’t want to.”
“Well, I am a boy and you’re a girl now…” he reached out and brushed a tear from my cheek. “...okay,” he blushed.
That night, the hospital was quiet, but sleep eluded me. Questions circled endlessly in my mind. I turned on the TV, hoping for a distraction, but every flickering image seemed to pull me deeper into my thoughts. Finally, I landed on an old black-and-white movie. Its slow pace and monotonous dialogue eventually lulled me into a restless sleep.
And then, the nightmares began.
The faces of my captors loomed in the shadows of my dreams. Their voices echoed, distorted and mocking. I saw flashes of the machine—the cold, metallic surface, the strange glow as it roared to life. Pain seared through me as if my body were tearing itself apart and reassembling in a way that didn’t belong.
I woke with a start, drenched in sweat, the beeping of the heart monitor racing in tandem with my pulse. My hands trembled as I clutched the blanket.
Somewhere in the haze of my memories, in the whispers of my nightmares, I knew the truth was buried. But I was too afraid to face it. Too afraid to ask the question that haunted me most:
Who am I now?
