1. A special allergy?

Numbed down pain.

I

That’s all I feel when I find myself waking up, a low, drawled groan leaving my mouth as I slowly regain consciousness. My throat is scratchy, and it feels like something died in my mouth. Faintly, I hear a beeping sound coming next to me, and I slowly turn my head to see what it is.

A machine. A machine to measure my heartbeat, the kind you see in hospital rooms with serious patients.

Why was I a serious patient, then?

That’s when all the memories came back to me through the haze of my mind.

Stone and his goons. The beating in the cafeteria. Falling unconscious as soon as the security guards managed to get the attackers off me. Someone screaming the word ‘hospital’ while I faded to black.

Crap.

I use my tired eyes to look around the room. The walls are painted white with accents of light yellow, and there’s a window. It’s a private room, and there is even a TV mounted in the corner. All around me, there are various machines taking my reading there’s, and an IV poked into my hand dripping saline. There are wires hooked onto my chest. Many parts of my body are bandaged.

Just as I end up taking in the room, the door opens, and a nurse strides in. Upon seeing my open eyes, her face lights up, and she immediately presses a button on the side of the bed.

I’m glad to see you’re awake,” the nurse greets me with a

my throat and lips are too dry.

the trolley cart she just rolled in, “The doctor was anticipating you waking up soon, so she instructed us to be ready. You are due another change of bandages as well, and we were waiting for you to wake up for

skin feel like heaven, and their moisture trickling down my arid throat finally loosens up my vocals enough to

ER immediately, of course. You were out cold and bleeding all over the place. One of your assailants used a brass knuckles weapon on you, bruising your ribs quite badly. You’re very lucky that they aren’t broken. Apart from that, your

to heal.”

wires hooked to me?” I question, confused because I haven’t seen assault victims with

nurse bites her lower lip, “there was a complication with a painkiller we administered to you. Were you aware that you’re allergic to

lift to my scalp, “silver?”

administered, and we had

like I’ve been gutted like a

didn’t know,” I tell her honestly, “I

was not on your medical record either. Perhaps it had recently surfaced, that happens,” the nurse uses a small controller on the side of my bed to move my head to a more vertical position, and switches to liquid

I had a silver allergy and had to have an operation performed

to stay here?” I ask her, trying not to sound

to the doctor to decide, he will be arriving in

on my condition, how much will it be? Can you give me

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