Amelia Saltar: A Short Story

Waking up Amy felt the discomfort of pressure in her throat. Her groggy mind trying to remember what had happened, a flash of a memory -almost dreamlike- skated across her mind. Tires sliding across wet asphalt, the rush of the dense green forest racing by in a disorienting display, the ear piercing, stomach churning sound of metal on metal. Her eyes snapped open taking in her surroundings, the EKG machine giving a sound to her erratic racing heart. The room looked like your typical hospital room and even had the terrible sterile smell. Moving her hands around she found the nurse call button on the side of the bed, she wanted that tube out.

The seconds seem to pass like hours, panic started crawling its way through her. One hand reached to

My name is Amelia Saltar. I think you may have the wrong chart doc.” She threw a smile at the doctor.

“Okay, Amy where were you born? Date of birth? Current address?” Amy saw the flash of pity in the doctors eyes and felt her own flash of defiance in response. Dammit, she was a strong independent hard working woman! She didn’t want or need anyone’s pity.

With her eyes narrowed in her defiance, Amy looked straight at Doctor Kale. “My name is Amelia Saltar, I was Born in Woodrock New Hampshire, I was Born on Wednesday, April twenty-eighth, 1993 and I live at 902 Adams ST, Wood Rock, New Hampshire. Also, I’m left handed and my blood type is A positive if that helps any.” She huffed. Crossing her arms over her chest she felt the tug of the IV in her hand and moved to pull it out. “Can I take this out, it isn’t necessary. I’m Fine and I just want to get home.”

Doctor Kale let out a sigh, pulling her hands away from the IV. “Were going to leave it in, for now, okay? I’m going to order a head CT for you, it won’t take long and it won’t be painful. All you have- “

“Why do I need a CT scan?” the panic started rising up again. “was I slurring my words? I didn’t notice it! Was I-

A pang ran through him at the thought that his whole family was hurting. Taking a long pull of the beer in his hand he tried to do the same thing his parents had been doing all day every day, trying not to get too hopeful.

Brice opened his eyes knowing he overslept he threw on last night’s jeans and ran downstairs. He’d been staying at his parents’ house most nights since Rory woke up. His parents were sitting around the table staring at a letter. He knew what the letter was it was a report on Rory. She had been moved to a facility better able to help her condition, and from the reports they’d get it was helping. “what’s it say? How’s she doing?” Brice looked between his parents and saw more hope on their faces than he’d seen since Rory’s accident.

“They say we can go in and see her next week.” Walter Miller was a down to earth realistic kind of man but Brice could hear the shock and excitement in his voice.

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Rory sat at the gray plastic table, her white scrub like clothes made her feel like she belonged in the psychiatric hospital she was in. the past