Flash Fiction: Not So Dire, #1


Where the hell am I?

I don’t know if I’m hot or cold but what I’m clear on is the searing pain ripping through my pelvis and that hands are pressing me to a bed. Lights and yelling and squeaking shoes permeate my internal screaming as I try to make sense of what’s happening.

Why is it so bright in here?

Why is everyone rushing?

Why are so many hands touching me?

Cool hands touch my cheek and a blinding light is shone in my eye. I flinch and try to turn my face away but his hold is firm while being gentle at the same time. A face moves in front of my line of vision and the most incredible set of eyes lock with mine. Dark gray outlines the most incredible marble irises I’ve ever seen. Or maybe that’s just because I’m flashbulb-blind. Sweet Lord in heaven something hurts. Everything hurts.

“Jamie, I’m Dr. Dire. Do you know where you are?”

I wonder how he knows my name, but then I realize I’m wearing my MedicAlert bracelet. I start to shake my head but quickly discover my mistake when it feels like someone is taking a wrecking ball to my temple.

“You’re in the hospital. You had a car accident.”

Oh dammit! Not with the rental. “The car?” My voice sounds weird. Slightly raspy and not at all like me.

“Let’s worry about all that later.” His smile is sweet and not at all as patronizing as one would expect, while he runs his hands over the rest of my body, assessing my injuries. He looks at the nurse standing next to him, an iPad at the ready.

“Let’s move Miss Watts to OR2. I’m pretty sure we’re looking at a broken pelvis, ribs and ruptured spleen so we have to move fast.”

Holy mother, are they talking about me? I hope they’re not talking about me. I pretty much know for a fact they’re talking about me, but I can still hope right? People get delirious with pain so maybe that’s what’s going on here? Maybe I’m just delirious and didn’t just hear that my insides are liked mashed peas. Those beautiful grey eyes lock with mine again and I feel a cool hand wrap around my fingers. I wonder why Dr. Dire’s hands are so cold but it’s kinda nice.

“Jamie, we’re taking you up to surgery now. Is there anyone we can call?”

I’m a quick learner so I don’t shake my head this time. “No, here from America.”

“I understand, but maybe there’s someone back home who’d like to know you’re not doing so well?”

Right, of course. I like this guy—he didn’t roll his eyes at my stupidity just now.

“My phone.” Damn, it’s getting hard to talk.

A nurse holds up my tote and I nod my head. It hurts like a bitch when I move. Okay, maybe I’m not such a fast learner after all.

“Give her 10mg’s of morphine,” Dr. Dire says and I think I’m in love with him. I’ve never taken more than Advil in my life but I’m all ready for the good stuff right now. Anything to take the edge off what feels like hundreds of knives in my bones.

“There’s a contact under ICE,” the nurse holding my bag announces and I manage a weak smile. Chris is gonna make it all better.

“Brother,” I barely manage.

“Call the brother, we’ve got to move.”

I’m still holding Dr. Dire’s hand. I like that he doesn’t let go. He smiles at me again. “You’re going to be just fine, Jamie. Just fine.”

I don’t know why but I believe him as I give in to the pain and the drugs and close my eyes.

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