Sia woke up to something soft yet restricting around her neck. It pushed under her chin, plush and uncomfortable. Simultaneously, as she opened her eyes, she put a hand around her neck and felt she had been put in a restrictive bracket of sorts. She imagined a beige around the neck cushion people used in case of stiff neck but this was wider.
"She is awake." An unfamiliar man's voice announced followed by another, "I'll call mom."
Mom? Did someone rescue her and bring her home? Why didn't they take her to a hospital?
Before she could ask, a man's face loomed over her, a straight nose, deep set eyes and a face, perhaps handsome once, full of healing scratches and cuts. Was she rescued by some delinquents? It wouldn't be surprising if someone of this kind came to hand out in a rescue spot like that. Nonetheless, she was extremely thankful. But the grateful feeling did not last long as she remembered what happened. It all came back quickly. The weird scent in the car, feeling dizzy, going in and out of consciousness, the old man by the trunk and something hitting the top of her head. She raise a hand to her head but pause.
Who did her nail? It was all black, cut short, one of them even chipped on the corner. There were callouses at the corner of her finger pads. Callouses? They were…. Not her hands. Was she dreaming? Her breathing became heavy as she pressed both hands on the bed and pushed up against it, trying to look around. Sure enough she was dreaming, a disorienting dream. A makeshift clinic, a yellowing ceiling, molding corners and out of place clean curtains, drawn to one side. The man who had looked at her from about had already turned around, eagerly watching the door.
The door burst open. A portly woman hurried in. She wore casual clothes, some brand's ripped off tracksuit. She had a box in her hand, a large one that she unceremoniously put by her feet and called, "Lokesh, help her sit up."
And so the man came forward and held her shoulder with a familiarity of someone who had done this before. Sia did not speak as the delinquent looking guy held her shoulder, without any in appropriation and held her back with his arm, supporting her until she had leaned back against the hard wall.
"How do you feel?"
Sia nodded slightly, not really looking at the pile of bandages and ointments in the box, instead looking down at herself in an all black shirt and long skirt, as well as black socks with holes in them. Either someone had changed her clothes or she was definitely dreaming.
But it was all too real. Way too real. Sia made a fist and dug the chipped corner of her nail into her hand. It hurt. Not a dream. But she hoped. For otherwise, it didn't make sense someone would change her clothes to this and speak with her in such familiarity.
Sia thought to ask but what to ask; who are you? How did you find me? What happened? How did I get here? Who changed my clothes?
The doctor, or the mother, began to unroll the bandage as she removed one of my sock to reveal a deep dark handprint. The bruising above the sock wasn't that much but even she could see she had been rough handled after they tried to kill her.
She finally settled on what she wanted to say, "thank you. Thank you for saving me."
Her voice was thicker, higher and muffled as if it hurt to speak.
The doctor shook her head, expertly applying ointment and bandaging her ankle as she spoke, "what are you talking about. I am mad at them that they didn't go with you. You shouldn't thank them. I am thankful they reached you in time. I never want to see a repeat of what happened before."
She looked up suddenly and sincerely. Though she said nothing. She looked over her shoulder and shot the guy in the room a condesending look, "out."
The young man scrambled out but looked at her equally sincerely, "call me if you need me. You phone is right there."
Sia looked. Sure enough there was a phone by on the table further away but it wasn't hers. Perhaps they had mistakenly picked the driver's phone? It was a simple masculine black case. If she had the driver's phone she could find out who tried to do away with her.
But she was quickly pulled from her thoughts when the doctor secured the bandage and walked up to her. The woman took her hardened hand lightly and looked at her deep in the eyes, "did…" she held back a torrent of choked emotions, "did something else happen?"
And just like that, Sia felt the blood rush to her face, half mad, half surprised, the horror of understanding surrounding her. "No." she said. "NO." she screamed. "NOTHING HAPPENED." she declared.
The woman sighed, as if a huge boulder had been lifted. In a blink she was wrapped in a short thick arms. The arms of warmth. The fear, the weariness, the stiffness, all left her shuddering waves. Before she knew it, tears streamed down her face and she buried her heavy eyes into the woman's shoulder, muffling her cries.
Aria woke up to the sound of monitors beeping. She remembered behind hit on the back of her head and wondered who had rescued her. Did, by any lucky chance, did Lock and Kesh come looking for her? It was hardly a chance that someone would come to that spot, until they followed a wrong address or if they wanted to get down to some bad business.
Then she heard a soft male voice, "how is she doctor?"
"By some miracle, she was still breathing after we were done with the surgery. You brought her just in time. A few more minutes would have been bad. As of now, all her vitals are normal for someone who survived such a situation. But we will keep her under observation before she wakes up. Then we will run a few more tests before we can give her an all clear."
Aria felt a warm hand on her wrist and flinched instinctively. Her eyes flew open and the dim light of the ceiling made her pinch her eyes. She had the urge to grab the man's hand and twist his fingers, to fight against whatever. But it was gone as soon as it had come.
Sitting by her bedside was a stranger, shirt bloodied, eyes wide with surprise and… relief? For a moment, they stared before the guy turned to doctor.
"Sia?" a voice, softer than butter whispered in the silence. Aria wondered who was Sia. Surely the doctor wouldn't be introducing herself like that. She looked over and found the kindly face with deep holes where eyes should be, from tiredness and smoking.
"How are you feeling?"
Aria looked up at the light and narrowed her eyes. The doctor reached over and dimmed the light to a minimum. Aria tried moving back, sliding up, to sit up but her entire body felt drained and heavy. Perhaps the doctor could see the strain on her face or she knew people's first reaction. She smiled, "the drugs have not worn off yet. That is why you feel heavy. Are you feeling sleepy?"
She was but not after the guy had tried to touch her wrist. She shook her head, the big movement she wanted to make care out very small.
"Do you remember what happened… before?"
She remembered. Her eyes widened. The big man, the old man, together, they had tried to kill her, perhaps silence her, for someone or something that was in the car. She tried to turn her head, to look around. Did they find anyone else in that place? She wanted too speak but a single word came out slurred, "dead…" she felt parched.
The man besides her, quickly poured in some water and the doctor helped her drink a few sips. Her tongue felt heavy but now she was in a half sitting position. The room was big and private. Surely the man who had rescued her was rich. She needed to thank him but also felt weary.
"Who found me?" a small sentence took a long while to come our properly.
"I did. Your phone entered up calling and I heard some weird conversation, so I tracked you down. I was just heading to your apartment so I reached that place just in time."
Aria's tried to think but her mind wasn't working. Why apartment? Did she know this man? Was he one of the customers? She was working orders before she left the cab. Did she butt dial a customer? But no customers knew her address, let alone know about her owning her mother's apartment. Was he someone his mother knew?
Aria frowned, "how do you know me?"
The man looked at the doctor but the doctor did not look back at him. Instead she asked, "what do you remember last?"
"I got the wrong address from my friend. Before I could leave, a car came in. An old man got down. He…" her mouth felt dry but she remembered the car again and someone inside it, someone who was the reason for her to be silenced. "He looked at someone inside the car, he was surprised to find me there. Then he told the other guy to kill me, or hit me. I ran but he still threw the hammer. It hit the back of my head. Aria moved her IV'ed hand to the back of her neck but felt not swelling or pain. When she put her hand back, her removed nail paint and primed nails were the first thing she noticed. Did the hospital remove her nail paint and clean her nails. She wanted to snort but it took a lot of effort.
The doctor smiled, "do you know or remember if someone stuck the top of your head?"
Aria shuddered. They really did try to kill her. Why? She wasn't the one to let things go. Anger surged in her chest as she recalled the face of the old man.
"No."
"Sia. We were told you were in the car, not in a cab." The doctor said, gently, as if afraid to speak too loud or jolt her memories. But she said Sia. She was Aria, not Sia. Was it possible that her face was disfigured and the man had mistaken her for someone else. She raised her hands to her face, a greeted effort than talking. Nothing. She was herself it seemed. But she remembered clearly that details of the night. "Do you know what day it was when this happened?"
"I had just finished an order, so it should be a Thursday. 25th"
The doctor looked at the guy and then looked back at her, "I am going to ask you a few more questions. To check how much the blow to your head might have damaged the nerves."
Aria nodded slowly, she felt uneasy. Not the kind to feel in a resculse place but the kind as if something wasn't right and she couldn't place her finger on it.
"What is your name?"
"Aria. Aria M."
The doctor nodded slowly, "how old are you."
"I will be 25 in the coming month."
The doctor smiled. The man put his hand tentatively on her wrist but she pulled back before they could make contact.
"Aria. Do you know who this is?"
Aria shook her head, "since you know about my mother's apartment, you must be an acquaintance of her. Sorry if I don't remember you."
Someone who knew about the apartment was no good news anyway.
The man frowned deeply, almost no lines forming on his face. If she was to guess, he was about the same age as her and did not look like someone who would go to that old apartment to look for her mother or her. He looked like someone who would own that entire building.
The doctor nodded subtly in her periphery and the guy spoke, "Sia. That is your name. Sia L. You came down from the US to get some money matters sorted before you flew back. We were at the office when the driver…"
Aria shook her head, which was much easier now than before, "wait. Back up. I am Aria. I am a late student at SNH Uni. I was looking into the company that pays my mother's afterlife funds to sort out why my last semester's fees hadn't come in. My friends checked out the company, found the address, so I went there to check."
The guy frowned, opened his mouth and closed it again. He looked at the doctor who smiled softly. "Alright then Aria. Worry not about the details. We will see to them after you have recovered."
After recovery? Then all these expensive hospital bills?
Before she could ask, the doctor was lowering the bed and the guy was walking out, ahead of the doctor. She knew they wanted to talk outside, either about finding the wrong person or about some memory loss. She wondered if they rescued the wrong person than who was Sia. Only one person came to mind, the only person that night she had not see. The one in the car. Was it possible they tried kill someone in the car and silenced her there and this guy rescued the wrong woman?
But how could it be? One look and anyone would know who they were rescuing.
The more she thought, the more she couldn't find an answer.
In the end, she raised her hand to the top of her head felt a patch of surgery bindings, right behind her crown. The patch was smaller than a fist, perhaps made from the same hammer at the top of her head. She had survived was a miracle in itself.
Suddenly, gratitude and tiredness, fear and relief, all washed over her in a torrent of tears. She shed them in silence.