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63. Wide Awake –Katy Perry

She opened her eyes and stared around at the hospital room. She knew it was a hospital room because the walls were white and covered in technical equipment, her sheets were green percale and the place stank of antiseptic. She sat up with difficult and winced at the pull of an intravenous in the crook of her arm.

"Huh?" The figure in the chair beside her startled out of a doze. He blinked at her, eyes widening as he took in her face and upright position. "You're … you're awake?" he said breathlessly. "You're awake! Oh my … you're awake!"

"Shouldn't I be?" Her voice was croaky from disuse. She tried to clear it but the sides stuck together like she had swallowed glue. "Where am I?"

The man, however, was on his feet and calling for someone to come quick. "She's awake! She's finally awake!"

"Why is this such a big deal?" She rubbed at her head and realised with alarm that her hair was only stubble. Both hands flew to her scalp. "What the hell? Who cut off my hair?"

"Don't worry, honey," said the man. "It's okay now." There were tears in his eyes as he came back to pick up one of her hands and press it to his mouth. He didn't kiss it, but it was the gesture of someone who cared deeply about her. He was clearly no casual acquaintance. She stared at him blankly. She had no idea who he was. Even when he murmured, "You're awake. I thought I'd lost you, but you're awake. You're awake!" she couldn't summon a name to go with his face.

She blinked in sudden realisation: she couldn't remember her own name either.

He looked shocked when she yanked her hand away and held it protectively to her chest, as if he might snatch it back in a tug-o-war of limbs. "Not to be rude," she croaked, "but who the hell are you?"

Shock registered in his face, followed by dismay. "You don't … remember me?"

"Should I?"

"We spent the last year crossing the country together, so yeah, actually."

She narrowed her eyes at him. Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Doctors, or nurses, or whoever were approaching the room. Their chatter said they were just as excited about her waking as the man now looking at her with growing panic.

"You really don't know who I am?"

"Not a clue," she replied sharply.

"So you don't remember the accident?"

"What accident? Is that how I got here? Is that why I don't have any friggin' hair?"

"You nearly died in that wreck. Your bike was totalled. It's a miracle you survived – they had to do brain surgery on you!"

Oh. So that was where her hair had gone. Not easier to carve up someone's skull inside and out with a big bunch of curls in the way. "I nearly died?" she parroted in a small voice.

"You skidded in the rain and hit a tree. I thought you were dead. I've never been so scared in my life – not of Dartz, not of Doma, not even in juvie. Never."

His words and the names he mentioned meant nothing to her. "Who are you?" she asked quickly, anxious to know even as the door opened and the medical staff entered. She wanted to ask 'who are you to me?' but the way he had held her hand said that. Nobody waited at a hospital bedside to press kisses on the random body parts of just a friend.

"I'm Valon," he said.

Valon. She tried to remember. His eyes and touch made her want to say she did.

But she couldn't.

So she didn't.