Night - Mia's Story - Part 10
(Continued from this post / Full story here)
Things were getting better. Being stuck in this room for so many days, so many weeks, was still a drag, but it seemed like things were calmer now at least. The doctors didn't wake her up so often anymore, and even their daytime checks were down, which left her with more time to be peaceful. Or bored. Or both.
Kris had even managed to leave her a couple of things with the hospital's approval; So far she only had a book of old comic strips and an etch-a-sketch, which quickly got as old as they were insulting. It was hard not to say anything. But she couldn't take the risk of hurting Kris' feelings when he was trying this hard to make things better for her. He still even visited every single day. But sometimes he really seemed to underestimate her age and intelligence. It was like he needed a whole crash course to learn that amnesia didn't mean she had full-on brutal brain damage.
Still, no matter how kind his intentions, Mia wound up leaving most of Kris' gifts on the floor by the bed. And every day now, once he was gone and the bland hospital dinner was out of the way, Mia found herself shoving the old chair slowly over to the window to peer out at the world, or often just to sit in the natural light.
Today, she'd decided to try something new. Well. Sort of. Bringing one blanket from the bed to bundle up in, Mia sat by the window with her etch-a-sketch, and tried to map out the vague shapes of the streets below. And it was beyond tricky. This thing was so fiddly and hard to control, she swore the amount of times she'd shaken it to restart should have been buffing up her skinny arms already. It was a constant cycle of failure, but she became completely invested in her mission. So invested that after one more attempt, she looked back to the window and saw only her own room, reflected back at her against the darkness outside. And she had been so close this time too. Now it would take hours before she'd be able to see out there again.
It was a strange feeling, looking at the window now. As if despite her experience and knowledge, her eyes weren't convinced of what they were seeing. Was this a window or a mirror? Was there something still visible out there at all, hidden in the dark? Or had it all fallen out of existence and left just this darkness on its own? A silly thought, she reflected. ...and yet on the surface, still a sort of plausible one.
With a tired expression, she shifted in her seat and leaned her head until it rested on her own reflection. The hospital seemed so quiet tonight; Even more so than usual. And as much as she tried to blink them back open, her eyelids slid shut as she drifted off into sleep.
_
The next morning, the light from the window peeked through a pair of ineffective blue curtains pulled shut. From across the room in her bed, Mia looked around slowly, squinting with a frown. The etch-a-sketch had been placed on her little wheely table with the image slightly worn away, and as she shifted, she realised even the blanket must have been returned to its place across her.
With a slight headache growing, she pushed herself upright and looked around some more. Her thin white blanket was just about poking out around the edges from underneath a new one- waffled in texture and the same tacky blue as the curtains.
Tight socks were constricting her feet and calves almost to the knee, which was the weirdest thing of all.
These doctors, or nurses, who whoever else, had clearly been playing some bizarro game in the night. And she was ready to find some answers.