Lauren's Story - Part 1

She awoke with some effort. Her eyelids were incredibly heavy and lifting them felt as if they were weighted down with lead. For the effort, she was rewarded with white light stinging her eyes. Immediately she dropped her eyelids again and a low moan escaped her throat. She wanted to go back to sleep. It was so much more pleasant where she had been than here, in the now. She swallowed, or rather tried to. Her throat was dry and swallowing hurt. Now she was thirsty. Excruciating thirst. But to find something to drink she had to open her eyes. Another unwilling gasp escaped her throat. Perhaps she could shield her eyes with her hand?

With difficulty she raised her arm, covered her eyes, and then opened them hesitantly. The light was much more bearable now, dimmed by her palm. Where was something to drink now? She turned her head slowly. Very slowly. Every movement hurt her muscles. Like sore muscles. But why? She couldn't remember exercising last night. She paused. She couldn't even remember what she had done last night. Or yesterday at all. Where was she even here? This wasn't her bed. It certainly didn't feel like it. Worried, she began to look around again. She wasn't in her bed, that much was certain. It wasn't her room either. Everything was in pale gray or white: The pillowcase, the sheet, the nightstand next to her (thankfully with a glass of water on top), and the ceiling and walls. It all looked pretty much like a hospital. What on earth had happened? Why was she in a hospital? Using her arms, she tried to straighten up, but it just hurt too much. Next, she reached out with her right hand for the glass. And stared at it, startled. Bruises covered it like mold covering a cheese. Red scrapes stretched criss-cross across her forearm, and white Band-Aids probably hid worse injuries.

Something stirred in her subconscious. A memory. Several memories, very painful ones. She pushed them away. She didn't want to think about it now, she wanted a drink! She pushed her hand further forward, touched the glass... and was frustrated to find that her fingers did not have the strength to hold the glass.

Then something rattled somewhere in the room, it creaked and the sounds of many people reached her. Then it cracked again, rattled, and silence reigned again. Almost, at least. Rubber soles creaked and clothes rustled. Footsteps. She tried to lift her head to see the person who caused them. For no doubt it was a person who had come into her room. Her movement caused the visitor to come to her. A cautious voice sounded:

"Lauren? Are you awake?"

Lauren? That was probably her. Yes, of course! Why hadn't she known her name? Things were getting creepier and creepier for her. And that voice... she knew it.

"M...Ma...rie?" Lauren's voice sounded brittle, weak. Half dead.

"Oh, God, Lauren! You're awake!" Marie rushed to her side and grabbed Lauren's outstretched hand. Lauren looked into the face of her friend. Her...former friend. Tears had blurred the makeup around her eyes, but only recently. She had begun to cry when Lauren had started to speak.

"Water?" gasped Lauren, pointing to the glass.

"Of course Lauren, here you go."

Marie took the glass and gently held it to Lauren's lips. She drank the water greedily and in large gulps. She almost choked.

"Marie..."

Lauren's voice sounded much stronger now.

"Yes?".

Marie's voice sounded worried. She grabbed Lauren's hand and squeezed it. Lauren, however, withdrew it from her.

"Lauren, what..."

"Marie," Lauren interrupted her, "what are you doing here?"

Struck, Marie looked at Lauren.

"I...I wanted to be with you after..." She faltered.

"Marie. It's over. Over, done,, finished. You yelled it in my face."

The painful memories rose up in her again.

"Just go. Please. I'm in no condition to argue with you."

"If you think you are..."

"Marie, I don't want to see you! I want you to leave!" Lauren raised her weak voice. "Get the hell out!"

A new emotion flashed in Marie's eyes. Anger.

"Fine! Have it your way!" She emphasized each word. "Then see how you get along." She made a sweeping gesture to point at Lauren's entire body, then stormed to the door.

"Good riddance!"

The door was pulled open and then slowly creaking shut again. And Lauren cried. She was crying because she remembered last night. The argument, the anger. Her father's barely concealed joy that she had broken up with Marie. Her mother's contrived pity. The next quarrel. The decision. It had not worked. She was alive. And in pain. Pain that told her she wanted to live. To face death again, she would not dare, because she had made a new decision. No more Marie. And no parents who didn't understand her, either. She would start again, from scratch. And on her own terms.

The next day immediately confronted Lauren's determination with a major challenge. She awoke much more rested, and instead of Marie, a nurse awaited her.

"Hi. How are you?"

Lauren pondered for a moment. She felt nowhere near as bruised as she had yesterday. However, her legs still hurt. A dull ache punctuated by sudden stabs.

"Better I think. However, my legs feel weird. A dull ache that I can't pinpoint. And my ankles sting and tingle. Are they broken?"

The nurse's gaze jerks briefly to Lauren's legs and becomes strangely serious.

"That's best explained to you by your doctor. He should be here any minute. I called when you were just waking up."

Lauren got a queasy feeling in her stomach. That serious? Then the doctor walked in, a short black-haired man with a springy step. His name tag on his scrubs read Dr. rer. nat. W. Lloyd.

"Hi. Lauren, isn't it?" Lauren nodded and he briskly joined her at the bedside. "I'm Walter." He extended his hand to her and smiled. He seemed to do that a lot because his eyes were surrounded by numerous lines.

"Okay Lauren, how are you? You went back to sleep so fast last night, I didn't get a chance to ask you."

Lauren's face contorted involuntarily as she thought about yesterday's encounter with Marie.

"Well, okay, actually. Yesterday I felt all sore but today everything doesn't hurt so much. Except for my legs. They feel weird."

Dr. Lloyd looks at her seriously.

"Lauren, do you know what happened?"

"Yes, I had an...accident."

Lloyd nodded. "A bad one. You sustained a lot of injuries."

Lauren raised her arms. "From the looks of my arms, I'll believe them withoutIs a second thought."

The corners of Lloyd's mouth lifted into a slight smile but his eyes were sad.

"Well, now Lauren...do you want to hear it first or see it?"

This bad? Lauren had a nasty feeling. Were her legs hurt that seriously? Were they paralyzed? Broken? Would she ever be able to walk again? She felt a chill go down her spine.

"Please say it first. Worst first."

He nodded.

"You lost both legs, already on the crash scene. I took care of them as best I could, but I couldn't save them. The fact that you don't feel it is because we're medicating you. Besides..."

"Wait, wait...I don't have legs anymore?"

He nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry. It was...

"Help me up!" she interrupted him. "Please." she then added.

Lloyd gestured for the nurse to help her up. And then Lauren saw her legs. Or rather, the leg. It was wrapped thickly with bandages, or even gibbed. Several large bandages covered her left thigh. The right one, on the other hand...was missing.

Lauren sucked in a sharp breath. It looked so unreal. She put her hand to the spot on the bed where her knee had once been. A sharp pain jerked through her leg. Which wasn't there.

"Why does it hurt even though it's not there anymore? Lauren felt tears at the corners of her eyes.

"Phantom pain. Your brain hasn't yet processed the fact that the leg is missing. It may get better. But it's not guaranteed."

Lauren nodded miserably. So her leg really was gone. But the doctor said she'd lost both of them....

She followed the cast down her left leg. Down below the knee and halfway down the lower leg. Then there was nothing there. Slowly she sank back onto her pillow. Her decision had cost her both legs. She clenched her hands into fists. So this was her fate? To be left alone, cast out and mutilated? Was she really supposed to endure this?

Dr. Lloyd began to speak again.

"I can understand that this must be very difficult for you. But at first glance, it always looks worse than it actually is."

How could this not be bad? She would never be able to walk again!

"Your knee is hurt, I don't want to go into too much detail about that, but I'm confident it's going to be okay. The cast will stabilize your knee and lower leg while it heals, nothing is broken. We'll make sure that your legs heal as quickly as possible so that the prosthetic fitting can start. So the chances aren't that bad that we'll get you back on your feet. But you have to be willing to do it." 

He seemed to know exactly what was on her mind.

"Don't give up. Your life is going to change, no question about it. But it's not hopeless. Later, someone will come along who has suffered a fate similar to yours. If you want to see her..."

Lauren nodded slightly. Lloyd patted her hand.

"Take heart. I'll see you."

He winked, got up, and left the room with the nurse. Lauren slapped her hands in front of her face and took a deep breath.

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A story I wrote while sitting on the train in my holidays. All sort of criticism welcome.