The man with no memory

“Hello! Hello nurse, anyone.”

James Ripley pressed the help button from his hospital bed over and over, but there was no answer, so he started yelling for help. He saw he was in a hospital, but he didn’t know why or how he got there. He looked out the window and saw it was daytime, the sun was out, and a bird was sitting on a ledge outside. The television was on the news, the report talking about a horrible train derailment that killed 40 people, injured over 100 and the police are still going through the wreckage looking for survivors or the dead.

“Was I in this wreck? I don’t remember being on a train.” He thought.

Next to him was a glass with water, he picked it up and took a sip, his throat sore. He was confused, had no memory of the last few hours. He remembered his name, he remembered where he lived, he remembered his wife Gillian, his daughter Mary and their dog Jasper, but he couldn’t remember anything that happened on that day. He didn’t remember getting on the train to work, he didn’t even remember getting up.

He laid there looking for a clock to see the time, but there wasn’t one, he looked for a phone to make a call but there wasn’t a phone either. The only thing he could do was press the red service button and scream for help, but no one was coming. He didn’t hear any traffic out in the halls, there wasn’t even any nurse’s name on the whiteboard in front of him.

He sat there with his finger on the button hoping someone would come. He then thought maybe he should pull the IV from his arm, an alarm will go off at the nurse’s station and someone will come. He did so, he slowly pulled out the IV tube, a little bit of blood trickled out and whatever was in the IV dripped from the needle that was in his arm. The machine next to him started making loud noises.

“For sure someone will come now.” He thought. But no one came. He was starting to panic, pressing the button harder and harder, screaming at the top of his lungs “why is no one coming.” He yelled.

He sat up in bed and tried to get to his feet but fell onto the cold tiled floor, hitting it with a loud “THUMP” knocking over the IV machine that was just hooked up to his arm. James looked down to find both of his legs had been amputated.

“What the fuck!” He screamed.

Meanwhile in real life James was lying there with a ventilator tube in his mouth. His Gillian standing on one side of the bed and Mary on the other, the doctor standing behind Gillian.

James had been in a coma for over a week, he was mugged and beaten by two guys. James had a brain bleed which they fixed, a broken arm and his back was broken. His 14-year-old daughter was crying while Gillian had no more tears, she was all cried out. He may wake up in a minute or a few weeks, there was brain function, so he wasn’t brain dead, he just needed to wake up. Gillian knew he’d be upset because he’ll be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, but she’ll take care of him.

“I love you, Daddy.” Mary said holding his hand.