Followers

Puzzled, the nurse's face made some fine lines visible on the edges of her forehead,which looked like that of a painting on a mildly peach coloured canvas. Having well reminded that a patient posses a high tendency of imitating them nurses' reactions,she hid her worries,and at once remembered one of the principles she had learned when she was a young trainee. That was during her first months of wearing the firm starched white uniform.

"Don't you worry sir,we'll take a good care of you here. You just lay down and stop moving your arms that vigorously-"

The man didn't stop,he might have not noticed,or he had lost his sense of pain,or he just didn't care. To remember what happened and why he was lying helplessly then and there was more important than anything else on the world.

"Help me,"

He uttered,which sounded more like an order than a request.

"You're making your hands bleed,Sir,"

'Anne',spelled the bold white letters on her nametag, as the man studied.

He started to reach up to his forehead,and his rough fingers touched the texture of gauze cloth. It hurt,very much. Anne eased a pillow behind him,and he sat-half comfortably,much disturbed.

"The police sent you yesterday evening,do you remember?"

"Not a single thing." He answered unsteadily.

"Try slowly,Sir. Don't force yourself. You can take a rest if you want to,don't worry."

"No,wait-"

"What's the matter?"

"There was a boy,there was a boy with me. Where is he?"

"I'm afraid you were alone when they sent you Sir. I'm sorry but there wasn't any boy,"

Anne made up her mind that this man needed a rest. He seemed to be giving her this new idea of a boy-but there was none,he was sent in an ambulance alone. The descriptions provided by the officer was not helpful indeed. And now he mentioned about a boy,which really gave her a mild anxiety. He was found in a car by the roadside,head bashed to the steering,glass shattered all over his shoulder. But there was no boy,she was sure. Hemorrhage could do a patient brain damage,and she was afraid that this man was experiencing it that he went delusional.

The man however,was crestfallen for his failure to remember any occurrence,let alone to relate one event to another,to finally answer the questions which had deluged his mind. Despite Anne's doubtful expressions,he was sure that he remembered perfectly. There was a boy indeed.

He mused over time,trying his best to recall additional details. He must know where the boy is,but not many options were laid before his eyes. He had to make Anne believe him first.

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