(part 2)
There was nothing, but slowly I started to begin to sense reality again for a moment. Although, it was like being submerged underwater. As my body was gradually sinking, distorted and faint voices were having a conversation. Trying to focus on those voices to pull myself back out of the water, I tried to imagine myself swimming. The moment I was able to move my hands, a large weight was pulling on my left hand, like a large boulder was suddenly attached to me. Sinking further, I was engulfed by nothingness again.
A pain shot through my cheek, which forced my eyes to flutter open. It took a moment to realize that I was lying on the floor, staring up at a large moose head and the youngish man with grey hair. He seemed genuinely worried, as if he was trying to safe someone dying. His eyes widened when I opened mine. With great urgency he said, "You need to stay awake, if you want to make it through this."
When did I pass out? My mind was so unfocused that I almost thought he was speaking a different language to me, or I didn't care enough to actually pay enough attention. The voice near me was starting to become distorted again, like I was slipping back into the dark ocean.
He shook me enough to bring his voice back into focus, "- need help right now. Nurse!" He tried to help me stand.
My body and mind didn't want to stand, so my muscles were limp in his arms. I mumbled, "Leave me here." I was tired. The darkness and the ocean was starting to seem more appealing.
"I can't let you. NURSE!"
The doors opened and the nurses came in. To my surprise, instead of first helping me off the ground, the tied my hand together then helped me onto the bed. I didn't care enough to ask them why they did that. Just doesn't make any sense.
The nurse said, "Quick get the medication and some food."
"No. Fucking leave me alone already." I was getting really irritated. This wasn't normal of me either.
The young man said, "I wasn't aware that you were going to pass out." He sighed, "But I finally feel like I can breath again... I think I am more in dept to you than I realize."
It felt like I was slowly starting to wake up or sober up. I almost completely forgot the situation I was in... somehow dying from depression. I accidentally spoke my mind out as I was thinking, "There is something else. Left hand."
"What? Say again?" The nurses stopped moving around to listen carefully to me.
"Did you experience any trauma? Maybe involving your left hand?"
The man seemed concerned and unable to answer me. How could he answer me? There was no way for him to have a sense of reality around him with whatever was suppressing and confusing him for so long.
Shaking her head, the old nurse answered me, "No. At least, I haven't heard of Mr Anderson being in an accident."
I was standing in front of the mirror again. Marveling at the grey hair that I now had at the side of my temples. Putting on black hair dye would be an easy fix. The hair was the least of my problems. I lifted up my left sleeve and held my breath at the slight of bruises and cuts and scars all up my left arm, as if it was mauled by something. Grimacing, I knew that this would be my main concern. Whatever I did to heal the cuts, I swear that a new one would appear hours later. I hoped this would last long.
It only took one night for me to recover enough to feel confident enough to drive again. However, I needed to be careful because sometimes it came back in waves. It was happening a little less often and less strong, luckily.
Before I left the house, the old nurse, Nancy walked up to me holding towels. Her voice was quiet, "I'm sorry to say that Mr Anderson is too busy with a ton of errands that he has been putting off due to his aliments."
I just wanted to leave this place and get back to the comfort of my home. "No problem! I'm just glad that he is better." I started to walk to the front door.
"Wait!" With her hand reached out to me, she lowered her voice again, "Please, take this." She pulled out a small leather book, hidden between the towels. With a small sigh, she was hesitant to say what she wanted to, "This is a journal. Mr Anderson's journal. I really don't know what happened to him. B-but I believe the answer is in here."
It was temping to take it and get the answers that I wanted, an explanation for whatever the fuck just happened to me, "No, I can't do that." I had an eerie feeling that this book would be Pandora's box, yet my temptation burned for me to accept it.
"I'm giving it to you because Mr Anderson has no need for it. I believe it did him more harm than good to..." She blinked her eyes, as if trying to blink away what she has seen in the past, "...lets just say that some things are better forgotten."
For a moment I just stared at the nurse and the leather journal, I gave in and took it. "Thanks." Then I left before anyone else could stop me. Once I was outside, I rushed to my car to get out of the wind and got into the driver seat, throwing the leather journal onto the passenger seat. I did my best to pretend that a simple journal didn't bother me. While in the car, I opened up my phone to check my bank account. Was I given a tip? That is a fat tip. Not sure if it was completely worth it still because I wasn't sure how long I needed to endure this pain. "I'll just be grateful for what I got." I said to myself, finally driving away from the house.