“YOU’RE AWAKE,” a nurse said, sliding the curtain open.
I looked around. I could only see out of one eye. I reached up and touched my other eye. It felt puffy and hot.
She grabbed my hand and pulled it from my face. “Your eye is swollen shut. Don’t touch it, okay?”
I tried to sit up, and it felt like someone stabbed me with a hot knife in my shoulder. I looked down. My left arm was in a sling.
“What happened?” My voice sounded weak and scratchy.
She adjusted something above my head. “You don’t remember?”
“I was at the diner. It was raining.”
“Someone attacked you. You’re lucky. A bus driver chased the guy away.”
It was coming back in pieces. The tweaker. Getting grabbed. Being chased. Slipping and sliding. Him jumping on my back. My heart pounded. Something wet leaked down my cheek. Mortified, I realized I was crying out of my good eye. I wasn’t sure if my other eye could even cry.
“Where am I?”
“You’re at Vancouver General Hospital. Can you tell me your name?”
“Zoey.”
“Do you have a last name, Zoey?”
I stayed silent. My bag. It had been under the steps behind the restaurant. Was it still there? My entire life was in that bag. I forced myself to sit up.
“Whoa,” the nurse said. “What are you doing?”
I looked down at my arm. Tape held an IV in place. “Can you take this out?”
“Why?”
“I need to go.”
“We can’t let you go until the doctor clears you.”
“I need to go.” I looked around the room. “Where are my clothes?”
She squeezed my hand. “I will get the doctor and find your clothes if you promise not to rip out that IV yourself. Do we have a deal?”
I nodded. She seemed nice. Maybe she would lend me some bus money and I could take a bus back out there. I needed my bag. My money, my ID, my uniform, all my clothes were in that bag.
I was so anxious I wanted to scream. I needed to get back there. Now.
“So, I hear someone wants to check out of the great white hotel?”
I looked up at a man wearing green scrubs. “I have to go.”
He was reading a chart. “Your vitals are good.” He came around to the side of the bed and held up his stethoscope. “Can I listen to your heart?”
I nodded, and he leaned too close and pressed it against my chest.
He stepped back. “How is the shoulder feeling?”
“Is it broken?”
“No, your shoulder is sprained.”
My entire body felt weak. For a moment I wondered if I would puke. “My stomach hurts.”
“Someone kicked you in the abdomen, but there is no internal bleeding. You will be sore for a while.”
I fought to not cry. “Okay.”
He looked at me with concern. “Can we call someone?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you.”
He wrote out something on a pad of paper and handed it to me. “This is a prescription for pain pills. You need to keep that shoulder in a sling for 2-3 weeks. When you’re pain free, you can take your arm out and practice moving it. But don’t push it, okay?”
“Do you know where my clothes are?”
“Not sure. Do you have any questions?”
The status of my clothes had been my question. “No.”
“Okay,” his look was apologetic. “You take care of yourself, okay?”
I waited another five minutes and then the nurse reappeared with a plastic bag and was carrying my boots. “I found your clothes.”
While she took out my IV, I pulled my clothes out of the bag. My jeans were filthy, coated in mud. My t-shirt looked like someone had sliced it in half with a knife. Same with my sweatshirt. My leather jacket was intact, but equally filthy.
“What happened to my shirts?”
“They cut them off you when you came into ER.”
I scrambled through the bag. My socks and bra were missing.
I will not cry.
I will not cry.
“How can I leave when I don’t have any clothes?”
“Let me see what I can find.”
She disappeared out of the curtain and I used the moment to drop my head in my hands. Tears poured out of me. My shoulders shook, and pain ricocheted through my body. It only made me cry harder.
I needed to pull my shit together. Now.
I needed to get my bag. That needed to be my only focus.
I sat up and wiped my face with the back of my hand.
The nurse reappeared with a set of green scrubs. “We’re not supposed to lend these out, but we can’t exactly send you home without a shirt.”
I looked up at her.
“Do you need some help?”
I nodded. She helped me into the shirt. I gritted my teeth to prevent from moaning out loud when my arm bent. The scrub pants were way too long, but she helped me tie them tight around my waist and then she helped roll up the bottoms. I stepped into my boots. They were wet and felt cold against my bare feet.
I put my good arm in my leather jacket. The other arm of my jacket just flapped empty.
I hated asking for help. I hesitated. “Do you think you could lend me money for a bus?”
“We have bus tickets at the front desk. Do you want me to go grab you some?”
“Yes, please. Can I use the washroom?”
“Just over there.”
Every part of my body hurt to move. I slowly shuffled across the room and by the time I got to the bathroom, I was shaking from pain. I looked at my face in the mirror. I looked like a bloated corpse. I didn’t even recognize my face. Blood crusted in my nostrils and in the cracks of my mouth. Long paths of dried blood stained my neck. My hair was crunchy and matted to my head.
I felt so hopeless that I wanted to lie down on the floor and give up. Life was hard before, now it would be impossible. I had missed my shift at my job today. With my shoulder, I probably wouldn’t be able to work. I didn’t even have my uniform. Without my ID, I wouldn’t even be able to stay at any shelters. At least not any of the good ones. All my money had been in my bag.
God. Please let it still be there.
I hurt so much. My body felt broken, but my spirit felt worse. How was I going to make it like this? The streets were rough. An injury like this made me weak. I was already small. This would make life impossibly dangerous.
I stared at my reflection. Maybe the time had come. Maybe I needed to take a short jump off some bridge. Perhaps my parents would be waiting for me somewhere. Maybe we could be together again.
A knock on the door. “Zoey?”
“Coming.”
I opened the door.
The nurse stood looking at me, a smile on her face. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“Your friend showed up. No need for the bus.”
I looked behind her.
There stood Ryan.
