Snippet #2509326

He was being kind to me. How strange, and a stranger at that. I almost asked him if he had some ulterior motive but stopped myself, knowing it wouldn't be appropriate to ask and doubting it was the case anyway.

Hospitals made me uneasy. They were places that held too many dying and sometimes dead people. Just breathing the air in made me feel sick. Perhaps those who were in need of long-term treatment found those places to be quite likeable. I didn't.

Once he set me on the bed, I wished to fight to at least to be able to sit on my own, but I couldn't find it in myself to do so. There were too many defeats that had occurred in one day to give me the desire to keep fighting, even for the small things like my petty desire to always do things on my own.

I nodded as he spoke. "My name is Ana," I said in a rather plain tone. The man at least deserved to be responded to for the help he'd given me. I fidgeted uneasily as he looked at me, but didn't feel it was threatening, so I let him do so. "Thank you...you didn't have to help."

It was then that the doctor came in, poking me around and doing some other tests. I didn't really try to move around too much until my shirt was pulled away and my wound was being dressed. I didn't like it, and I was pretty sure the doctor could tell by the words escaping my mouth and the fact that I moved every time she tried to go near me.

"A little help?" The words were directed towards two nurses that came to hold me down almost immediately as the doctor injected what I assumed to be a local anesthetic due to the fact that numbing quickly spread.

Once it was over, I was tired, having fought with the nurses a little too hard for their liking. The stitches in my side would probably start hurting after the anesthesia wore off.