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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/540019-Part-1-Chapter-Five-Who-I-Was
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by Howler Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Book · Action/Adventure · #1325559
Everyone wants her dead, but America's future leader doesn't remember her own name
#540019 added February 6, 2008 at 1:48am
Restrictions: None
Part 1 Chapter Five: Who I Was
“Tough night, huh? Stay still for a minute, I’m almost done. Logan should really be stitching you up.”

“It’s just a scratch.”

“Tori, scratches can be closed with superglue. I would need glue, duct tape, and a few nails for this.”

“Logan is helping Tina. And I needed to talk to you alone.”

“What’s up honey?”

“Ah!”

“Sorry, the stitch got caught on your crazy scar tissue.”

“Its okay, I don’t know how much more I can do, so try to wrap it up please.”

“I’ll be quick, then why don’t I bandage this and we can take a shower. I’ve been dieing to show you how much I appreciate what you did for Tina.”

“I can’t.”

“I know you’re tired, but a bath would really help. Besides, you kinda stink.”

“No Rae, I can’t. I mean I can’t do us anymore.”

“I don’t get it, are you dumping me?”

“No. I mean yes. I don’t know. Tonight the deck made me chose between a target and Tina. I chose Tina, but that was an easy test. They are going to start getting harder and I may not be able to find a solution that saves everyone. You know that I can’t think when you’re in the line of fire. I can’t let the Deck put you in that situation, I can’t risk you. I love you, but I can’t risk your life by being with you.”

“Torrance, look at me. No, my face, good. From day one I knew the risks, but I stayed. You’re just scared because of Tina, but I’m not dieing any time soon.”

“Your right, your not, because I wont put you in those circumstances anymore. We’re done Rachel. We’re friends, nothing more.”

“Do your own damn stitches then.”

____________________________________________________

God I feel like shit. She opened her eyes slowly, squinting from the light. The room was dark, but there was a window that showed into a brightly lit hallway. The room itself smelled like ammonia and Pinesol. She was alone except for the single bed, a television mounted to the wall, and several machines. Cords and tubes ran out of her body and traveled into the machines. She could feel the adhesive sensors stuck to her chest and stomach, pulling the small fine hairs. While they were uncomfortable, the thing that concerned her most was the IV in her right arm. The needle was large and clearly visible under the skin. She had a phobia about needles, and spiders. While she could get away from a spider, it was difficult to really get away from a needle, and the feeling of having one semi permanently in her body sent her over the edge.

She began to hyperventilate and the machines mentoring her heart rate began to beep angrily. But she couldn’t hear anything save the throbbing in my ears, and in all truth, she didn’t care. Gotta get it out, cant stop shaking, shit I have to get this out of me!   She tried to rip the needle from her right with her left hand, but she found that to be imposible. What’s wrong with my arm? What’s wrong with me? She turned to her left and found that her left wrist was trapped in a bright red cast, and her entire arm was immobilized on her side.

“What the fuck is going on?” She screamed, struggling to sit up. Her muscles ached like nothing she had ever experienced and her throat was dry. Her voice was hoarse, as if she hadn’t used it for days, but she was too scared to care about water. The fight or flight instinct had kicked in, and she was always a fighter. Her body began to shake uncontrollably, a symptom of emotional and psychological shock. She tried to hold her breath, tried to make it stop, but every movement made her skin crawl on its own volition.

A man in light blue scrubs jogged hurriedly into the room. He threw on the lights, causing her to completely close my eyes. Thanks for the warning pal.   He said something about calming down, but it didn’t register in her panicked mind. 

“Get it out of me now!”  She growled, grabbing for  the man with her mobile hand. He stepped out of reach, but she was determined to either get his help or hurt him severely, convinced that either option would make her feel better.

“Hey. Hey, Tori.” A young blond rushed into the room. Her clothes were wrinkled, and her choppy blond hair was disheveled. She wore no make up, but her tanned skin and toned body didn’t need it. It looked like she had been awake for days, but now she was completely alert. Had the wounded girl's mental capacity allowed her to think of more than her physical condition, the rooms new occupant would have stuck her as rather beautiful.

The blond pulled her into a strong hug, whispering into her ear, “Shh calm down, its ok, your going to be ok.” Ok? It is not ok, there is something in my arm and I can’t breath. I didn’t even know this girl and she is trying to calm me down.Who the hell does she think I am, my name's not Tori. The confusion began.

“Get this thing out of me.” The wounded girl, Tori, pleaded, motioning to the imbedded needle. Without hesitation, the blond ripped it out, tossing it to the side. The sharp pain in her arm was intense, but she didn’t have time to complain, as Blondie pulled her into another fierce hug.  She actually wasn’t sure if Street Smart Barbie was hugging her or trying to restrain her, but she wasn’t physically hurting her, so Tori let the hugging continue.

“You can’t do that! We are just going to put it back in.” The man said, turning off the intravenous machine so that it didn’t drip saline onto the floor.

Blondie gave him a cold look, “Are you like new or something? Get the fuck out.”

The man gave a worried glance, but he was indeed new, so he didn’t second guess the blond.  He left in search of a doctor, leaving Tori alone with the anonymous blond girl. She was nice enough, but very clingy, and Tori was not about to tell her that she was in the wrong room, well not while they were alone anyway.

The blond held her until her breathing returned to normal and the shaking stopped. It took quite a bit for Tori to maintain control, but with the needle out, she could think clearly. “Thanks, what’s your name?”

Blondie pulled back and looked her dead in the eye, “Are you joking?” Obviously she wasn’t. She searched Tori's face, looking for some clue that her friend was only kidding. A frown of concern wrinkled her brow when she saw nothing but an oblivious confused expression staring back.  “It’s me, Rae.”

The name didn’t ring a bell, so Tori did her best to be non offensive. I am being attacked by a crazy little blond girl. Stay calm and don’t make any sudden movements. “Um... Rae is it? What’s going on?”

“Shit,” Rae said under her breath, “the doctors said this could happen.” She turned back to her friend and said, “Ok, you were in a snowboarding accident. You broke your arm and cracked your head open. ”

“I don’t remember that.” It was true, she didn’t. She began to reach for the call button at the side of her bed when two more people walked in. Thank God, witnesses!

“Hey she’s awake!”  Another blond said as he and a friend walked into the room. He wore a white t shirt and navy blue cargo pants. The shirt clung to his body, showing off  his impressive pectorals and shoulders. The term bear came to mind as Tori looked him up and down. The young man was on the hairy side, with a blond fur that covered his arms and face in the form of mutton chops.  His hair was chunkily cut, with an underlying black hue. He looked like a surfer, but there was something wrong with the picture. It was probably his considerable height and bulk, and the fact that he lacked any form of a tan.

His friend was also very muscular, although his attire did not flaunt his features. He looked more Jamaican rather than African American. His long black hair was made up into at least one hundred tiny braids, which were pulled back into a pony tail.  He wore a green button up shirt and blue jeans, however the clothes screamed money. Come to think of it, as she looked at the three in the room, they all seemed to have an upper class demeanor.

Rae moved out of the way so that the surfer on steroids could get through. He came to Tori's side and leaned down, as if to move in for a kiss.

That was not going to happen. Without hesitation she shoved two fingers from her good hand into his throat, just under his adams apple. She didn’t know this boy, hell She didn’t know any of these people. And this kid wanted a kiss, was he crazy?

Surfer boy stumbled back, grasping his throat.  His eyes watered and he tried to breath, but the move was designed to faze him. Tori snickered at her own brilliance. That couldn’t have been better if I planned it. How did I know how to do that?

The big black ox laughed at his friends and then turned back to Tori, “So the great Dovolo has gotten up from her nap. Hey sweetie.” Dovolo, who the fuck was Dovolo? Didn't Rae just call me Tori ? Did I get horrible plastic surgery, am I am a camera show? Maybe I am in the psyc ward. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, trying to put her at ease.

The surfer was catching his breath and looking around at a loss. Rae helped him into a chair, which was conveniently placed outside of Tori's reach. He looked hurt emotionally.  But Dovolo could care less about his emotional state. She was in a room with strangers, immobile, and they were obviously mistaking her for someone else.

“What was that for?” Surfer groaned.

Tori kept quite, and continued to look at him like the mental patient that he obviously was. Rae was the one to explain, “She didn’t know who I was. It might be everyone, everything.”

“Oh shit.”  The ox said, squeezing my hand a little tighter.

“You can let go of my hand now, thanks.” Tori said, pulling away. Where was that doctor anyway? “Um… I’m sorry but I think you have me confused with someone else. If you will just look at my chart you will see that you are in the wrong room.”

The ox got up and grabbed her chart from the foot of my bed. “No it says right here, T Dovolo, emancipated minor, admitted for severe head and shoulder injuries.”

Well hell, if these three were calling me Dovolo, and my chart said that I am Dovolo, then maybe the misunderstanding was on my end. “Ok I think I am a little disoriented and confused. What are your names and what is going on?”

“Ryan Liberty. You jumped off a cliff and cracked your brain.” The Ox said as he threw her chart rather violently back into the bin at the foot of her bed.

Rae pointed to the surfer, “This is Logan Guevera, your boyfriend.” The surfer waved, and stood, still cradling his neck.

“Oh.” Well maybe he was justified in wanting a kiss. But could she really be dating that? He was so hairy, and unspoken. Did she set my standards low, or did he have redeeming qualities?

“And what is your name?” Ryan asked in an annoyingly chipper voice.

She paused for a moment and thought. That should be a question that she can answer right off the bat. What is my name? Why are these people so familiar with me and I don’t even know their faces or the names that they are caling me?What’s going on? “I…I don’t know.” She said, feeling rather helpless. “I don’t know anything.”

“What is the last thing you remember?” Logan asked, coming to her side and placing a careful hand on her good shoulder. She didn’t mind that so much, but every time she moved he jumped, as if anticipating an attack.

Again she thought. She had flashes, bit no real timeline. “I don’t know. I mean it’s all jumbled. What happened to me?”

“You jumped off a cliff.” Ryan said again, as if she didn’t understand him.

“Yeah, got that the first time, thanks.” She wrote Ryan off as either condescending or a dumbass. So she focused her questions to Rae now, who seemed more informed, “What is wrong with me?”

“Your left side is hurt pretty bad. They had to reset your wrist and you had surgery on your shoulder. You cracked your head open. The docs had to cut out a part of you brain. It was in the part that controls most conscious functions, so they weren’t sure what it could effect.” Rae explained, not discounting her intelligence. Tori decided that she liked her.

“Wait, so they cut out pieces of my brain? So I physically don’t have these memories. I haven’t forgotten, I don’t have them. Are you fuckin' serious?” This was almost too much to take in. She wasn’t temporarily stupid, no, she was a newborn. Everything that these people remembered about her, she didn’t. She didn’t remember them, hell she didn’t remember what she looked like.

“If that is all you have lost, then we are extremely lucky.” A Doctor said, taking control of the room as he walked in.  He was an older man but his grey hair was stylishly cut and complimented his dark blue eyes perfectly.  Tori was suddenly very aware that she was surrounded by beautiful people.

The doctor walked around to the bed, picking up her medical chart and glancing it over for a few seconds. He snapped it shut and placed it on the bed, “Hello, I am Dr. Swan. How are you feeling?” he said, putting his hand out.

Tori shook it and said, “I’m alive Doc.”

“Well your grip is strong, that’s good.  I assume that your friends have informed you on the extent of your injuries?”  He asked, taking his hand from hers and flipping open the chart.

“I got the jist of it.” She shrugged, was she supposed to remember this man as well?

He took a pen and penlight from his white coat. He turned on the pen light and shined it in her face, moving it from side to side, “Follow the light for me. What is your name?”

She pointed to Ryan and Rae, but still followed the light with her eyes. It hurt to do so, but she ignored the pain and tried to keep from squinting, “He called me the Dovolo. And she called me Tori. Right now the jury is out.”

Dr Swan laughed, moving the pen laterally, “And what is your birthday?”

She continued to follow the light with her eyes, but her brow furrowed, “I don’t know.”

“September 27th,” Logan said from the chair. Ryan had moved a chair next to his and sat down, while Rae hovered like a worried mother hen.

Dr. Swan gave her so called boyfriend a disapproving look before turning back to Tori, “How old are you?” He asked, clicking the penlight off and scribbling some illegible note into her chart.

She held her hand out to the group of friends, and this time it was Ryan’s turn to chime in, “Seventeen.” Now Dr. Swan was rubbing it in, but she figured out a system.

“That is enough from the peanut gallery.” Swan said, giving her buddies a harsh glance. Ryan shrugged, but seemed unfazed, while Rae and Logan watched worriedly. How can these people be so concerned about me, when I didn’t even know their faces?

“What is my name?” She asked, hoping that someone would answer this time.

Dr. Swan chuckled and then said, “Your name is Torrance Angelina Dovolo.” He turned to her friends and asked, “I did say that correctly?”

Rae nodded and Ryan quietly.

“Are you sure you don’t remember anything?” Rae asked, as if pleading with her friend to remember something.

She sat in the bed for a while and thought. There were flashes, bits of memories, bits of feelings. She remembered Scooby Doo, and captain crunch cereal. A Grazer Safety Round would blow someone’s head off without going through a wall.  That matrixes were the bane of her mathematical existence. “I can remember things,like my email passwords, but I can’t remember people, faces, any of you.”

“It’s alright Torrance. This is all a bit overwhelming. I am going to give you some time to let this all sink in. We are going to put your IV back in and I am going to give you a dose of Adavan to keep you calm and Vicoden for the pain.”  Swan said in that reassuring voice that older doctors seemed to perfect. 

“No,” She said sternly, “no needles.” It wasn’t rational, and deep down she knew it, but that needle phobia and the gravity of the situation were overriding her ability to reason. The thought of having that metallic tube back inside her body, along with the screws and pins in her wrist, made her feel a little like the bionic woman, without the powers or corny sound effects.

The good doctor tried to dismiss her concern, putting his tools back in his pocket. He glanced at the young intern in the doorway and said, “Dr. Tovar, 5 milligrams of Adavan and-“

Torrance grabbed the doctor’s arm, above the elbow at the pressure point. Her grip was tight, as if she had just gotten a boost retard strength. “I said no.”  She said. There was no room for negotiations in her tone, or on her face.

Dr. Swan grunted and tried to pull away, only to be brought to his knees. No one in the room rushed to help him. Logan and Ryan continued to lounge, while Rae casually made her way to the side of her friend's bed.  It must have been a normal reaction for Torrance, or at least one they knew they couldn’t interfere with. 

“If my daughter said no needles, then you will respect her wishes, Doctor.” A man said, pushing the intern out of the way as he walked into the room.  He was tall, muscular, built like a brick house. His blond hair was just long enough to show his curls, and his blue eyes were strong, piercing. His suit was expensive, and tailored to his body.  While he was built like a bruiser, his entire stance emanated authority, regality.

Torrance let go of the doctor and turned to the lion of a man in my doorway. “Daddy?” She asked. She tried to hide back the tears of stress, but her voice was still shaky. She didn’t remember him, but he had called her his daughter.

“I am here, my Angel.” He said as he walked to her side, pulling her into a gentle but very paternal hug.  He cooed as she laid her head on his chest, taking in his scent. It was slightly familiar, and utterly comforting, as if this was what she needed more than anything in life.

“I don’t believe this shit.” Rae muttered harshly under her breath as she pushed off from the night stand.

Logan was quick to grab her, literally dragging her into the corner.  “Quit it, now.” He said, shoving his finger into her face.

“She got emancipated so that fucker couldn’t control her life anymore. He brought a gold digger here to keep him company. She can’t remember and now he is taking advantage of that.” She whispered angrily.

“Look at her right now,” he motioned to the two Dovolo's, “Right now she doesn’t know who or where she is. She is not the Tori we know. That girl is scared, hurt, and alone. Richard is a grand asshole, but right now he is offering her comfort in ways that we can’t. Let him for now. She will deal with him later.”
© Copyright 2008 Howler (UN: howler594 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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