Twentytwo13

Search
Close this search box.

Captive to a cure

Linda awoke in a dilapidated hospital. According to a nurse, she was in a coma for two months.

The nurse told her she was in a terrible accident. When Linda asked for details, she replied: “Now you rest up. The doctor will be here shortly.”

Linda was in so much pain and didn’t have the energy to push on with her questions.

Shortly, an unkempt doctor walked into Linda’s room. As he neared her, Linda smelled a familiar scent that made her heart race.

Linda asked him what had happened. The doctor told her she was in an automobile accident as a result of her being drunk.

“How can that be? I’ve never touched a drop of alcohol in my life,” said Linda.

The doctor shrugged his shoulders and carried on with his work. Linda slowly drifted off to sleep.

Linda was an enterprising lady who built a successful business selling baked goods. She grew the business through blood, sweat and tears.

Because of her total focus on the business, she never had the time for relationships. As a single child to deceased parents, it was no surprise that no one visited her in the hospital.

The next day, Linda awoke feeling fresher but thirsty. She called out to the nurse, but they fell on deaf ears.

She decided she was strong enough to get out of bed. As she drew her blanket away, she noticed her legs were tied to the bed.

Strangely, her legs looked bigger and more muscular. She jerked on the binds and, to her surprise, ripped them off with a single tug.

Linda went to find some water and saw a shiny water cooler at the end of the corridor. As she filled her second cup of water, she noticed a strange man looking at her from behind a glass door.

He was unshaven and dishevelled. He looked familiar. Linda couldn’t remember where she met him before, but he seemed as confused as she was.

“Hi, have I seen you before?” she asked, but he didn’t answer.

Feeling a little disoriented, Linda walked back to her room. Suddenly, she bumped into the nurse.

“Excuse me, what are you doing out of bed?” asked the nurse. Linda replied: “I needed a drink. By the way, why were my legs tied up?”

The nurse seemed uncomfortable and didn’t make eye contact. She tried to lead Linda back to her room.

Linda pulled herself free from the nurse’s grip and accidentally hit the nurse, who fell to the ground, her forehead bloodied.

Linda was shocked that she could cause so much damage as she didn’t use much force. The nurse called for help, and four big burly orderlies rushed to catch hold of Linda.

“Why did they need four of them to escort me back to my room?” thought Linda. “Why am I suddenly so strong?”

When there was no one around, she looked at her chart at the base of the hospital bed and was shocked that it belonged to a man named ‘David H’.

Scared, she walked out of her room and into another one where a patient lay, covered by a blanket. She could see a hand with a bracelet peeking out.

“Hey, that looks like my bracelet,” she thought.

“Maybe, they had mistakenly given the woman my bracelet.”

It was then that she noticed her hands and arms were bigger than before.

Confused, she made her way to the nurse’s counter when she bumped into the doctor.

“What are you doing out of bed?” the doctor said sternly. “What were you doing in that room?”

He tried escorting Linda back to her room, but she struggled free and ran towards the elevator. As she approached the elevator, she noticed the man who was staring at her earlier.

It looked like he was running towards her. She stopped, and he stopped, too.

The elevator doors opened, and the man vanished. As Linda entered the elevator, the doctor caught hold of her.

As soon as he held on to her, she again smelled the familiar scent. At that instant, she remembered meeting the doctor and the strange man. That man, although well-built and robust, was dying of cancer. He and the doctor were working on a strange treatment to save him.

The man had told her that they were related, and she would be the key to saving his life. Linda, however, didn’t want anything to do with them and told them to leave her alone.

The last thing Linda remembered was the doctor buying her a drink.

This is the personal opinion of the writer and does not necessarily represent the views of Twentytwo13.

To give the younger generation an avenue to express themselves, Twentytwo13 now has a dedicated space called Young Voices. If you are a young writer (aged between 12 and 17) and would like to have your article published on our news website, send your contribution to editor@twentytwo13.my.

All articles must be accompanied by the young writer’s full name, MyKad number, contact number, and the mobile number of the young writer’s parents/guardians for verification purposes.