The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2771 by Angharad Copyright© 2015 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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For a moment I was almost paralysed by the shock of the stuff hitting me and then landing on top of me. While some people would argue that being buried alive would be a fitting end to a couple of transgender women, I wasn’t one of them and I started to struggle. Why hadn’t I worn trousers? This blessed skirt was catching on things as I tried to free my legs. Finally after minutes of struggling, I got an arm and a leg free and then managed to lift stuff off me and I could then sit up. After this wriggling the rest of me free was just a matter of patience and perseverance.

It was obvious I needed to get Danni out of there once I’d dug her free. That was the next task, uncovering her and making sure she was still alive, had the debris suffocated her. I worked in a frenzy and cleared her head and then her chest. She was breathing but I had no idea what else might be hurt and the fact she was unconscious was worrying. After clearing her whole body I placed the two handbags on the outside of the bin and began trying to lift her under her arms. It was no good, and a further shower of rubbish nearly buried both of us. I screamed up at the chute and after a moment a voice called back.

“Help, we’re stuck in the bin under the chute, you’re going to kill us.”

“What the hell are you doing in there?”

“Never mind that get an ambulance, my daughter is unconscious.”

“Wait, I’ll come down.”

“Call the paramedics first, then come.”

“Uh—okay.”

I just stood there holding my daughter’s inert form, trying to protect it from further injury but unsure if I was doing good or causing more damage. I threw the blue light into her, especially into her head, where some dried blood in her hair, showed the injury I’d picked up earlier. I Held a hand over the injury and the area of her scalp below it became icy cold. I kissed her on the cheek and said, “Hold on, kiddo, you’re going to be all right,” though that was said more in hope than confidence. Then again the blue light had found her, surely it wouldn’t just leave us in this mess—would it?

A face appeared at the door of the bin, “What the fuck are you doing in here?” asked the mouth belonging to it.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but I got in here to rescue my daughter.”

Sirens were heard and few minutes later two paramedics arrived, assessed the situation and five minutes later my still unconscious daughter was being strapped to a frame like a stretcher and I was standing outside the bin knocking dust off my clothing. Then it was a question of following the ambulance up to Southmead Hospital all the time trying to send the blue energy to my daughter.

I hated the place as both my parents had died in there and there was a possibility my daughter could too, but to be fair to them, she was receiving treatment within moments of getting there. The NHS in these situations is probably as good if not better than health care service anywhere in the world.

I was called and escorted to an interview room where I had to say how we’d both got into the bin. Of course no one would believe the truth so I just had to wing it. I still got funny looks but I suggested I’d called her mobile and followed the ring, at least it was accepted. I had no idea how she’d got there nor if it was by accident or design.

I was allowed to go and wash myself and shake some more dust out of my clothing while Danni was sent for scans. They decided she was in a deep concussion though apart from some superficial trauma to her scalp, her brain seemed normal. She was back for further examinations and I was told to go back to the waiting room. Asking how long they’d be I dashed off to grab some clean stuff for me and buy some for Danielle, including a nightdress and slippers in case she ended up staying there.

It took me an hour and a half but at least I felt cleaner and got the dust out of my knickers. I’d also bought a top, some jeans and some lingerie for Danni, as well as a cheap nightdress and mule type slippers. Using my hands free, I’d called Simon who was on his way with some more of Danielle’s clothes and I hoped a shoulder for me to cry on. I felt in need of a good blub.

On returning to the hospital I was told Danielle had been sent up to a ward. She was still unconscious but was stable, or at least her functions were, so everything appeared to be working. It was a high dependency ward so she was in a room of her own attached to some machines to monitor her as necessary. I was allowed to go and sit with her though when asked for a prognosis, all I got was shrugged shoulders.

As soon as I could I sat and talked with her while I centred down to try and help heal whatever had been damaged and return her to normal. It took me a while and I began to realise I was seeing her latest memory before she became unconscious. It appeared some bloke tried to chat her up and didn’t want to take no for an answer.

She ran into a department store and he followed, presumably enjoying the game as he saw it. She appeared very frightened. She was hiding when she caught sight of him coming in her direction which was when she spotted the barrier supposed to keep people out while the alterations were going on. Scared he was following her she turned sharply and ran into one of the metal supports for the chute and then fell down it. The memory seemed to be on a loop ending in darkness but starting in daylight.

I talked her through the memory and added some light at the end, where instead of darkness, there was recovery. I’d found her and she was going to be safe. I seemed to come out of my stupor to find Simon sitting the other side of her holding her other hand.

“Is she going to be okay?” he asked in a whisper. I hushed him, remember unconscious people can still hear sometimes. I nodded, she was going to make a full recovery—unlike that bloke if ever got hold of him.

Si and I sat talking quietly, “Can you two shurrup, some of us are tryin’ to sleep,” said a little voice and after laughing, I did burst into tears; nearly shrinking Simon’s shirt in the process.