Every freak thunderstorm.10

After seeing the car crash down to certain doom at the bottom of the cliff, I screamed myself breathless when he decided to screw me right on the vehicle barrier at the side of the road, under the battering of wind and icy sleet.

"Damn Storm," I heard him mutter. "Why now? Look. Wait a bit longer. We're almost there."

My legs wouldn't take my weight and he roughly wiped the dripping fluids and stuffed me into the car. The car thankfully already had a towel on the seat.

Exhausted, I fell into a deep sleep, not waking up afterwards for quite some time.

I was shaken awake.

"Little girl, I have to leave now. I'll be gone for a little while. Wait here for me. Don't go anywhere. I've arranged for people to come check on you and help you. I also left some money for you int the wardrobe."

My senses were fuzzy and groggy. My comprehension slow. I had barely opened my eyes when he kissed me passionately. And then his body warmth left me, and I felt a gust of cold wind. Heard a banging door.

The smell of cleaning alcohol and bleach made me frown. The bed was hard. It was cold. My entire body ached and it was hard to move or open my eyes. I fought my eyes open to find out where I was.

"Doctor Taya, she's aawake."

"Coming."

Distant voices drew closer and blurry figures loomed into view, making me recoil with fright.

"Young lady, don't be scared. You're ok. It's alright."

I tried to open my mouth to speak but lacked the strength. So tired. I was too tired. I tried to stay with them but fell back into the depth of sleep.

When I next opened my eyes, the backrest of my bed had propped me up into a semi-reclined sitting position. I still felt sore and tired, but it was at least much better than before. Plus, I was busting. I had to go to the toilet before my bladder burst.

The room was bright and I could smell human smells around me mixed with the scent of cleaning alcohol and bleach. Dirty skin. Dirty hair. Hair oil.

Wait. Was it me that stank? I needed a shower. I felt so cold and clammy.

Carefully sitting up properly, I looked at the line in my hand and wondered how many days it had been.

"Darling," said the cheerful voice of a nurse entering, pushing a cart of equipment. "You're up. That was a nasty fever and infection that you had. It's good that you're finally awake."

"What happened?" I croaked. "How did I get here? Where am I?"

The nurse bustled about me, giving me a shrug.

"I don't know what happened exactly, but I can tell you that you're in Stromdorf Regional Hospital. You came in about five days ago, accompanied by a neighbour. Your neighbour said that your husband had recently brought you home but you weren't very well and so had never stepped out of the house. After the big storm the other week, your husband had to leave for work, and being worried about you, asked the neighbour to check in on you. In the end, they called the ambulance."

"Husband? I don't have a husband," I rubbed my head, feeling cranky. "Where is Stromdorf? How did I get sick?"

"Darling," the nurse's forehead creased and eyebrows came together. "You're not married?"

"No. Then is this your name and date of birth?"

The nurse showed me the sticker on top of the chart she had been writing on.

"That's my name and date of birth, I acknowledged, but not my address. I've never seen this address before."

"Then what is your address? Do you have any emergency contacts? Someone we can call?"

I tried to answer, but a severe jolt of pain lanced through my head, causing my vision to flash white and then fade to black.

The next thing I knew, there were more people by my side and I held my aching head, groaning. It felt like someone had cracked my head open and then stabbed it with a bolt of lightning.

"What?" I could hardly talk. I felt so weak and tired.

"You just had a seizure," the doctor reassured me. "We're sending you for more tests. Don't worry, you're safe here. Nobody will be able to hurt you anymore."

"Huh? Oh. Thank you," I closed my eyes, struggling to speak.

The doctor asked me more questions about how I felt and asked me to move my limbs, reminding me that I needed to go to the toilet.

"Toilet. Bladder. Busting," I covered my face in embarrassment.

"Right," the doctor nodded to a nurse who came to my side. "You told the nurse earlier that you don't know Stromdorf. What city do you come from?"

"From," I began but then the brain lancing pain struck me down once more.

The next few days were filled with seizures and epileptic type fits whenever I woke up and the medical staff asked me about my past or the man who had said he was my husband. We eventually figured out a pattern.

Anything relating to my past or asking me about the man would result in these fits and seizures. As if my brain had restrictions on it and had decided that all these topics were out of bounds. Or perhaps, it was that man who had done something to me. He was already mysterious enough as he was. Was he even a man? As in human?

Other people could talk to me about things, but I was not allowed to talk or write about them or to think about them too deeply. If I dwelled on those topics for too long, then I'd receive a severe and punishing headache that could last hours. Nodding and shaking my head to 'yes or no' type questions didn't knock me out at least, but it did give me a headache.

The doctor rubbed his balding head and gave me a sympathetic smile.

"Alright, we have gathered some basic information and with the help of the police, we have found out where you came from and roughly what happened. Don't think about it too much and don't say anything. Just nod or shake your head and signal me to stop if the headaches start again. Ok?"

I nodded.

"The police want to come and talk to you about what happened when you were taken hostage in your own home and kidnapped. I know you might not be able to talk about it, but they would like to try. Three police officers were killed that day when your house was set on fire. The one who survived is still in a coma."

I gripped the doctor's hand with anxiety.

"Don't worry. She's stable. Although she's in a coma, her health is stable."

I let out a sigh of relief and let the doctor's hand go.

"You want to try talking to the police?"

I nodded.

"Ok. I'll let them know. Are you happy to disclose your medical details and condition to the police?"

I nodded again.

"Great," the doctor gave me a relieved smile. "In addition, don't worry about your hospital fees. Someone is covering the cost for you. You don't have to be concerned."

"That's great," I said. "I admit I was a bit stressed about that."

"You don't need to worry, after all, you are a victim of crime. You should be receiving some government support as well to help you," the doctor smiled at me. "Although we've seen the signs on your body when you first came in, we have to ask. Did the man who kidnapped you - did he abuse you?"

I nodded and then winced as a sharp headache began throbbing, holding up a hand.

"Headache," I said in a strained voice.

"Alright," the doctor winced in sympathy with me. "Then, do you know where you want to go after you've been discharged from hospital?"

"I should go back to that address, I think," I pointed at the UR ID sticker on all my medical documents. "The place I was found in. I'm scared if he comes back and doesn't find me there..."

"But it wouldn't be very safe for you," the doctor frowned and made a mark on a piece of paper. "We'll have to talk to the police about this and ask for their advice."

"The police probably know him better than me," I said and winced again as the headache grew more burdensome.

"Don't talk. Just breathe," the doctor told me. "Just keep breathing. We won't continue this topic anymore. I'll get the nurse to give you some pain killers later to help with the headache. We'll leave the matter with the police to advise us on."

The doctor gave me a few moments to get my breathing back under control, not leaving. It looked like there was more he wanted to discuss with me. His face was nervous and actions anxious.

"There's something else?" I asked. I had already been in hospital for more than two weeks and was getting to know the regular staff and my attending doctor quite well.

"Yes," the doctor hesitated, biting his lip.

"What is it?" I asked, rubbing my head.

"You... you might be pregnant. It's still early days and we can't completely confirm it yet, but from your blood test results, there is a very high chance that you are pregnant. If you are, what do you want to do? Do you want to keep it or abort it?"

Pregnant.

Pregnancy hadn't even crossed my mind as a possibility. I covered my face with my hands for a long moment, not knowing how to feel about this bit of news. It wasn't confirmed. It was only a possibility at this stage. What did I want to do? I didn't know either.

"Also, if you really are pregnant, some of the medications we used, may have harmed the embryo. There may be complications. I just want you to be prepared."

I buried my face in my hands and then my head in the blankets.

"I'll give you some time to think about it," the doctor said in a very gentle voice. "You let me know when you have made a decision."

I nodded and heard the doctor walk away with the nurses. Not long later, a nurse came over to give me a painkiller, which I took and then covered my head with the blankets again.

A multitude of thoughts were racing through my head like a flood.

His child. My child. Our child?

Keep or don't keep. Complications, expenses, relationships. My future was so uncertain already. Would he be happy if or when he found out?

Knowing him, although he had to leave for a while, he would soon find me again. This time, he might not let me go. If he found out I was carrying his child, he might become even more... who knew? I didn't know. Didn't know what to do. Didn't want to accept that I might be pregnant.

I worried and stressed myself sick. The doctors and nurses tried to advise me but they couldn't really help me with this decision. I won't describe in detail what happened next.

The police came and tried to talk to me, and while we tried to be careful, I ended up with a growing headache. Pushing on and through it, we ended up triggering a seizure so bad that I was out for three days. It felt like just a night's sleep. When I returned to consciousness, it turned out that my body had rejected the growing embryo in favour of protecting my body.

The decision had been taken from me, and the child was gone. It wasn't completely my fault, but I felt so guilty. Regretful. It was my child. A life. An innocent little life and I had lost it.

I don't think I was in my right mind for a few days, lost in the darkness of depression and grief. It felt as if I had just been through a battlefield filled with lightning, explosions, darkness and blood.

The medical staff were relieved to see me acting like a normal person again. My heart still felt conflicted and torn.

Looking down at myself, I realised that I had gotten thinner and weaker. Just getting up to go to the toilet or have a shower left me puffing. Doing rehab was painful, but needed. The police ended up arguing with the doctors about where to send me after I was discharged.

In the end, I was offered transport back to the city where I had come from, but the man's warning to stay in the house where he had left me still carried a bit of weight with the police. There was division amongst them as to whether to let me to return to the city or return to the house the man had left me in.