Chapter 4 Bloody Samaritan

Sasha

"Do you remember anything? Faces, names of anyone? Do you remember how you got into the

accident?" I asked in a gentle voice.

I studied his facial expression waiting to see a metaphorical light bulb lit up in his head, I at least thought the long rest was going to help him juggle back his memory, that was the whole reason why I let him stay on the only available bed in the house and slept on the couch. I did diagnose that it would take him a few days to start recovering from the temporary amnesia so I wasn't really surprised that he was struggling to think of anything.

The man tried to sit up right and failed, groaning in pain. His head felt like it fell from a ten story building and he felt really sore all over his body but there was still a sharp pain in his head. His mind remained blank, he tried remembering how he got here or who the woman with bad hair was or where he was even. He looked around the room, it was a really small room with a medium sized bed, the walls were grey and the ceiling was white and the whole place smelt of disinfectants, generally what the hospital smells like. He looked back at her again and I had a slightly disappointed look on her face. Even with her bad morning hair, she managed to look hot, she wore glasses which he guessed were medicated from how sharp they looked.

"Wait, who are you again and how did I get here, and sorry but you really have to do something about your hair," The man said to me furrowing his face, he turned towards the window and the light pouring from the window got into his eyes sending a sharp pain to the back of his head making him stream bunch of endless curse words and groans.

"Why does this room smell like disinfectants and cat litter for Christ sake?," He groaned, scrunching his nose. He opened his eyes to look at me.

I was yet to answer his questions as I kept writing down my observations on a white clipboard in my hands with full concentration. I usually used it at work, but somehow I managed to bring it home but never returned it.

"Hellooooo," he called out but cringed in his own voice. He tried again to lift his upper body but failed and huffed in surrender, so he decided to do less talking and more staring with an intense glare, maybe I would get uncomfortable enough to actually answer him.

"Okay, Nothing then..."

"Very helpful…" I said, muttering the last part to myself sarcastically. I wrote down her observations, I finalized he was having Temporary amnesia with post accidental stress.

"I heard that," he groaned out loud, wincing from sharp pain in his head which she guessed was from the intense head collusion he had yesterday, probably regretting talking again.

I wrote down the following observations and made a mental note to take him for more tests as I headed to work.

Has zero memory of the last night to the past fifteen years

Finding it difficult to move his body(post accidental stress)

Sharp headaches and cornea bery sensitive to light.

Heavy concoction

Very grumpy and childish in the morning.

"You think being grumpy and shooting glares at me is going to do anything to me, I work with grumpy adults that act like kids who don't want to take their pills, so relax your facial muscles and rest," I said, ignoring his pout. I had a bandage around his bleeding head last night and I was able to stop it before a somewhat considerable good amount of blood was lost and he would pass out and probably end up in a coma because of shock.

"Okay, I will be straight up plain with you since you seem very cherry and full of life," I said, closing my clipboard and facing him, he huffed and turned his face to the other side.

If I was not dedicated to saving lives, I definitely would have let him die on the side of the road, but then again, I just wasn't that kind of person, I couldn't let a total stranger die like that. That night, when I found him in between life and death, he was already slipping away before I gave him a CPR. He was begging to be saved but at the same time he was giving up accepting death, it was a scene I don't think I would forget in the nearest future.

"Go ahead, You look like you are about to tell me I have five days left to live, and you are sorry but this is the best you could do," He said to me in a childish voice, like I just denied him a time under the sun. It seemed like being rude was his strong suit.

"Hey!!" I cautioned, maybe a little too loud for someone who was trying to keep her cool.

"Drop that tone when you are talking to me, I'm not one you should use it with," I snapped back and he held his head again at the sharpness of my voice. Of course I would have given him the painkillers he so must be craving for right now but I couldn't give him that now, any considerable abuse of a painkiller on an empty stomach could lead him into a bad ulcer.

"Can you please not do that again, you would have to wash your sheets of blood and brains because the next time you make an unnecesary loud noise, I swear my head is going to fucking explode," He said in a low deep voice that, I found oddly soothing. Call me crazy but if he talks in that voice every morning, I might want to keep him. But I knew I couldn't afford that luxury, I was barely surviving while paying for my college loan and med school, taking care of another human wasn't something my budget could handle.

But then, is it all worth it?