Repeated, But Not Remembered (Part 1)

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Waking up in a hospital bed, but it’s even more creepy, when you have no idea why you’re there. The monitor nearby chirped on, and the rhythm of it, was almost in time with the pounding of my headache. I tried to remember why I was here, but my thoughts were too jumbled up.

I was just about to use the call button to page a nurse when the door to my room suddenly swung open, and a nurse appeared in the doorway. The nurse, who was wearing white scrubs and carrying a metal tray, walked in the room and cheerfully said, “Good morning, Detective Ashton. How’s the headache?” She questioned, setting the tray on the counter that was near the sink in my room.

I didn’t remember this woman at all, so the question was, how did she know my name? Or about my aching head? “Excuse me, but have we met before?” I asked, sitting up in my bed, an action that caused me to feel dizzy.

 “You don’t remember?” The nurse was saying, when everything stopped spinning. “Last night, the doc and I checked out that huge knot on your head.”

“What?” I exclaimed, quickly raising my hand, to my head. I winced as I brushed against a big bump on the left side of my head. “Where, where did I get that from?”

The nurse frowned as she handed me, a pill, and a glass of water. “I don’t know. You couldn’t tell us the answer to that question last night either. That must be a pretty nasty headache.”

“It is, but I don’t understand.” I started to say. “What am I doing here? How did I…”

“Look,” The nurse’s voice was kind as she interrupted me. “My job’s just to fix you up. The detective out there is going to talk to you about what happened.”

“There’s a detective out there.” I repeated after her. “Why?”

The nurse’s frown deepened if that was even possible. “You really don’t remember anything about last night or before that? What’s the last thing you remember happening?”

I strained to think back and something that I knew was closely related to worry, came to me. Even the last thing I remember was lost or tangled with other memories. “I don’t know. Look, it must be the headache.” I tried to convince myself.

“What’s your name?” The nurse wondered.

“Ashton. Detective Scarlett Ashton.” I replied.


I only hesitated a second before answering, “January 19th.”

“What’s your parent’s names?”

“Ethan and Clara.” I answered, not sure how she would know if that answer was true.

“What state are you in?” The nurse asked, slowly.

“Wisconsin.” I responded. “Why do you ask?”

“Actually, you’re in Minnesota.” The nurse informed me. “You work at a police precinct in Wisconsin, right?”

“What?” I exclaimed. “What am I doing in Minnesota?”

Just then, there was a knock on my door, and the nurse went to the door to see who it was. “Detective Pall.” I heard her say. “She seems pretty out of it right now, but I’ll ask her if she wants to talk to you.”

The nurse turned to look at me. “It’s the detective I was telling you about. Are you up to talk to him?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. Best case scenario, he could explain everything that was going on. Worse case, well, was pretty much just the opposite. I watched as a man in street clothes, slipped into the room, following the nurse. The glint of his badge and gun were the only signs that he was a cop, since he was casually dressed.

For a while, he stood with his back towards me as he talked to the nurse. The nurse seemed reluctant, but finally asked me, “Do you mind if I leave?”

“Nah. I’m fine.” I responded, sipping some more of my water. “Thanks for the medicine.”

“You’re welcome.”

Once the nurse had exited the room, the man turned his attention to me. “Hello. You’re Detective Ashton, right?” He wondered, offering me his hand.

I shook his hand. “That is correct. And you are?”

“Detective Ethan Pall.” The man answered. “I’m the detective working that case, but since you’re a detective as well, I take it you know how that goes.” He grabbed a chair that was against the wall and set it down beside my bed. “You mind if I sit here?” He asked, motioning to the chair.

I waved my hand as if to say, “Go ahead”. “So, what’s going on? My brain’s not exactly working right now. What happened last night? Why am I here?”

The detective’s expression was one of pure surprise. “You don’t know the answers to any of those questions?”

“Oh, boy.” I thought, and then added out loud, “Well, I probably do, but…” I tried to recall last night’s events one more time before just shaking my head. “But I can’t as of right now. I was hoping you could remind me and maybe…”

“You don’t remember anything?” The detective repeated, as if he didn’t believe me. “Nothing about last night? Or about your attack? Or…”

“Nope.” I interrupted him. “I didn’t even know I had this,” I pointed to the lump on my head. “Until the nurse pointed it out. I think it’s because of my headache.”

“Or maybe the concussion.” The detective suggested.

“Concussion? I had a concussion?” Why was this new news?

The detective sighed. “Why don’t I tell you what I know, and whenever you start to remember something, you can just cut in?” I nodded and then he continued. “Okay, let’s begin then.”

-Scarlett ☕






One response to “Repeated, But Not Remembered (Part 1)”

  1. Adalia Westermann Avatar
    Adalia Westermann

    Tell me MORE!!!!!!

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