Chapter Text
A rhythmic beep keeps bugging her ears.
She struggles to open her eyes to see the source of it. She tries rubbing them but her hands are tied and she can faintly feel an IV bag attached to her forearm.
Everything is way too blurry for her likeness.
The fetid smell and the gown she feels on her skin makes her assume she is in a hospital.
It aches to breathe and her mouth is dry, her head reels so much that trying to open her eyes to beckon white lights hurts all the more.
She tries to move her hands again but both of them are restrained, so are her legs.
What the fuck happened?
She inhales and opens her eyes.
Her hands are hidden beneath a soft blanket, the warmth on her skin burns.
She cranes her neck to look at the empty sofa next to her, but the motion hurts so much she shuts her eyes again.
Huh, her mother must have gone to the bathroom or something.
Why is she in the hospital? Why is she restrained?
She breathes out before opening her eyes again.
She tries looking around as her vision clears to search for any clue but it’s blurry enough for her to make out the details around her.
She’s in a white room with a mirror glass in front of her. Is she in some teaching hospital kinda shit? She wonders if there’s anyone watching her right now.
There is a small table besides the chair, filled with medical shenanigans on it, a glove box, medicine, and shit she doesn’t know the name of.
A pang in her head makes her hiss in pain and she decides to give up on making any sense of it.
Is Jackie here with her? The thought makes her nauseous.
Did they suffer an accident? Shit, her mother shouldn’t have allowed her to drive the car before she got her license.
She can’t be in Wiskayok, though. No hospital there is attached to a university. Perhaps she’s in Newark after coming here with Jackie to… God, her mind is a haze.
Fuck, did she drink too much at a party? Is she in some alcoholic coma and that’s why she can’t remember shit?
The thought makes her nauseous. She swallows the bile in her throat and waits.
She feels how dry her throat is, she really could use a cup of water now.
Just hope her mom gets there soon.
Her head throbs so much, she had better keep her eyes closed while she waits…
She opens her eyes startled by someone fixing her medicine dose.
The brightness hurts for a moment before she can make out a woman, maybe in her fifties, dressed in scrubs.
The woman flinches and takes a step away to watch her.
Shauna just looks back, her head gnawing too much for her to decipher the woman’s look.
When she’s done with watching her, she breathes out, “Ms. Shipman?” She asks and the act of nodding makes her hiss. Her fucking head aches at any movement. “Oh. Good, I’m gonna call the doctor to check on you.”
She says too many words for Shauna to understand and proceeds to press the call button she hadn’t noticed is next to her tied hand.
She is at an arm's length of distance and Shauna is restrained. She looks almost… scared of her? Why would someone be scared of a fifteen year old?
A soft grin appears on the woman’s face, who introduces herself with a name Shauna doesn’t get.
The woman talks funny but she can’t pinpoint why.
She risks a glance at the fluff chair to find it still empty while the nurse resumes messing with her IV bag.
A shiver goes down her spine.
Something is wrong.
Where is mom?
Her mother should be here. Or at least something that said the fluffy chair had been used. Maybe a pillow or a bag, anything really.
She’s about to ask the nurse when another woman enters the room and she looks younger. There’s an id attached to her lab coat pocket but Shauna’s head is ringing enough to give up reading.
“Hello, Ms. Shipman, it’s Dr. Wilson, how are you feeling today?”
She also stands from a safe distance from Shauna for some reason. She wants to scream, yell at the tops of her lungs ‘what is going on’ but thinking is too painful.
Shauna opens her mouth and closes a few times.
“where’s mom?” Her voice doesn’t sound like herself, it’s too hoarse, it’s too heavy and it aches to speak.
The doctor gets closer and widens. She smiles for a moment before turning her lips into a tight line, “Ms. Shipman, you’re in Canada. Soon you’ll be transferred to the States, I’m afraid your mother can’t be here now.”
“canada?” She mouths, still tasting this new voice. Why the fuck is she in Canada? No fucking alcoholic coma would do that to her.
The doctor watches her for a moment, but when it becomes clear Shauna won’t speak, she clears her throat. “What do you remember?”
She frowns, remember what? That she somehow got teleported to Canada when she went to bed yesterday? When did she even go to bed again?
The woman glances deliberately at the spy-glass and now Shauna’s sure someone’s watching her.
Could it be that she got lost after a trip with the Taylor’s? Though that wouldn’t explain why she can’t remember it in the first place.
Shauna knows her memory is shit and it aches like hell to make sense of things but she shouldn’t be this confused.
She went to bed last night in her attic, didn’t she?
“Ms. Shipman? What do you remember?”
The doctor asks again and she stares at her green eyes.
It reminds her of Jackie, her heart aches at the thought of her best friend. Is she in the hospital too? Did they restrain her too?
The doctor repeats her question for maybe the third or fourth time before she can answer.
“Uh– I fell?” She guesses. Her head pounds coming up with reasons she could be in Canada without her mother. “Is Jackie here?” The doctor stares at her blankly.
If she isn’t here with the Taylor's then what the hell is she doing in Canada?
She squeezes her eyes shut, the brightness too much for her.
“You suffered a Traumatic Brain Injury eight days ago when you were rescued, your memory might be hazy right now, but while we expect for your re–”
“Rescued?” She mumbles.
Rescued from what? Just yesterday she was– she was with Jackie– but…? They were probably having a sleepover, weren't they?
Everything the doctor says afterwards doesn’t cross her ears.
She opens her eyes and the doctor is biting her lip expectantly.
“Ms. Shipman, you were in a plane crash with your soccer team two years ago and the rescue team finally found you and brought you to Sainte-Catherine Hospital.”
She wheezes in pain.
‘Two years’?
What the actual fuck?
“Where’s Jackie?” If she is here on a trip, then Jackie has to be with her. The doctor watches her and she desperately looks around for her best friend, “Jacqueline Taylor? She needs to be here.”
The doctor watches her stoically and Shauna realizes as her head clears, she didn’t get her name.
“Where’s Jackie? Am I here alone?” Her heart soars, the beeping sound next to her turns a pitch higher.
She needs to see a familiar face, for fuck's sake.
“Your friends were rescued and you suffered an injury, Ms. Shipman. They are safely sleeping at a compound waiting to be transferred.” Shauna fights the instinct telling her to run. “After I evaluate you–”
“Who?” What friends? If Jackie isn’t here then who she talked to from the team? She can’t seem to remember any of their names now, but it doesn’t matter.
None of them were anything besides acquaintances to her.
“Uh– there are eight of you including yourself, Ms. Shipman. I’ll ask if one can come visit you. But while–”
“None of them are Jackie Taylor?”
She is baffled.
“I’m afraid there is no one here with the last name ‘Taylor’, Ms. Shipman.” She sighs. “After my examination, a psychologist will come and talk to you about your mental condition.”
Her vision blurs with tears, the words keep getting lost on her.
Maybe another doctor was taking care of her best friend.
“Why are my hands tied?” She asks, dreading how brittle it sounds.
The doctor clears her throat, and Shauna can’t see if her look is of pity or apathy. “It’s not the first time you’re waking up, Ms. Shipman, oftentimes you’d display a behavior that would endanger you or others.” She says, but it doesn’t make sense. “I hope you can understand it’s only a safety measurement.”
“Safety measurement? For who?”
“Ms. Shipman, once the psychologist evaluates your psychological behavior, you’ll be free of the medical restraints. Don’t worry.”
The fact she doesn’t answer her question makes her heart rate spike and the monitor on her side showcases it to the rest of the world.
The doctor frowns at her.
She tries to move her hands again and hates that she has to nod for the doctor to understand. She feels her cheeks wet.
“Can I have a cup of water?” She pleads, realizing how dry her throat is.
None of this makes sense.
Maybe Jackie wasn't on the plane when it crashed? But then, what the hell would she be doing in a plane without her best friend? No. She refuses to allow her thoughts to wander that way.
She will not panic until she knows what happened.
The doctor comes back with a cup and a straw and she downs it, savoring the feel of clean water like she hasn’t in years.
Fuck, if she was in an accident, then she really didn’t have clear water for years.
“When can I meet my friends?”
“I’m afraid that is not up to me.” She sighs. “Military personnel will come talk to you after exams.”
She nods on reflex and instantly regrets it, groaning at the pain.
Why would the military need to talk to her? She eyes her restraints, were they the ones to put it on her?
“First of all, what’s your name?” The doctor interrupts her internal crisis.
“Shauna Marie Shipman.” She answers eagerly.
The doctor hums and keep scrutinizing her.
“What’s your birth date?”
“February 22th, 1979.” She avoids rolling her eyes, these questions are dumb.
“How old are you?”
“Uh–” Okay, not so easy. “–seventeen?” The doctor agrees with a hum and it's getting on Shauna’s nerves. She wonders if her birthday of eighteen already passed and she didn’t celebrate it with Jackie like they always planned to.
“What day is today?”
God, she can’t think clearly. How long has she been in the hospital? Plus those fucking two years she said.
“I don’t know.” She whispers.
“You can guess, Ms. Shipman.”
She tries thinking about it, but it hurts and she really doesn't have a clue, so she shakes her head in defeat and winces when the motion bite right back at her.
“Do you have any guesses of the month you are in? Or the season?”
She looks around, her head throb not helping her make sense of things at all.
For some reason, she thinks her birthday is coming up soon so maybe it’s fall already. But has Jackie’s birthday passed yet? No, she would remember her best friend’s sweet sixteen. So maybe it’s Jackie’s birthday coming soon.
“Uh- Are we in October? Or like, fall?” The doctor nods at her answer and writes something on her notebook.
“What year do you think you are?”
That's supposed to be easy, but math makes her head ache even more.
“1996?”
Shauna watches her swallow dry.
“Ms. Shipman, today is January 20th, 1998.”
“What?”
She leans towards the doctor but is quickly pulled back by the restraints. The flinch the woman does at her action doesn’t come unnoticed, shit. She’s been nice to her so far, she really hopes she didn’t attack this woman.
“Your plane crashed in 1996, what do you remember from it?”
“Nothing? What do you mean?” She tries and her head twinges trying to remember. God, she can picture debris and chaos ensured, but was it real or a scene she imagined from a book?
“What is the last thing you remember?”
She tries to, but it’s all cloudy.
She thinks there was a party Jackie had dragged her to which she drank until she fell, but that doesn’t match the doctor’s story. And she’s not about to tell her about getting drunk when she was fifteen.
“I– Jackie was sleeping over and we were gonna watch a movie, maybe? I’m not sure.” Maybe they were watching that stupid movie for the thousandth time.
She remembers being five and meeting her best friend in class. She remembers her parents divorce when she was nine, why the fuck wouldn’t she remember a goddamn plane crash?
Or the two years that came before?
New Year ‘95 or ‘96? How did she spend it? Has she graduated already? She has to see someone she knows, someone to say this is real.
The doctor keeps asking and Shauna grimaces all the time, not knowing anything about her own life.
Some of her questions are weird, like if she's noticed something different with her belly or if there is any pain she has been feeling. Shauna can’t tell her if she endured an infection recently or anything about her health.
The doctor keeps going on, talking about her state of health with medical lingo that Shauna can’t understand even if she tried to.
Eventually she calls someone and looks at her with a polite smile.
A man in black shows up, he wears sunglasses inside and has this fucking look that says ‘hey, I’m an entitled asshole’. He must be what she means about the military being here.
He takes off her restraints without saying a word.
The doctor ignores him and begins doing her physical examination. She pokes her arms, asks her to move, – and Shauna struggles, feeling her body numb – she asks if she felt pain at being poked at and for some reason she frowns when Shauna denies it.
She moves her around, making her do (rather fail to do) all odd stuff like lifting her arms or try straightening her legs. She asks her to follow her fingers and it brings bile to her throat.
She should feel stupid for not being able to do simple shit and follow dumb tasks, but the dizziness and nausea are making her lose her mind.
She gags with her empty stomach.
The doctor smiles apologetically at her and waits for her to recover before removing her IV fluids and asking her to stand up to walk in a straight line.
She gawks at the woman, is she out of her damn mind? Shauna is barely handling turning her head to the side.
With help, she manages to stand up just to stumble on her feet and sway to her right side as soon as the doctor drops her arms and asks her to walk on her own.
The motion leaves her dizzy, she looks at the spy-mirror and can make out two shadows watching her.
Chills go down her spine.
She now doubts they are watching her just because they are dumb students being forced to.
She glances at the corridor and there’s people watching her, two staff leaning on a counter watching wide-eyed at what must be a freak show dressed in hospital gown.
One of them is a guy with a purple eye that stands frozen. She waves at him and he immediately walks out of her sight while the doctor asks her to walk back to her bed.
By the time she turns, it’s too late, her stomach gets the best of her and she throws up on the floor.
Her knees buckle and soon she’s feeling the disgusting smell rise to her nostrils.
Long after she stops puking, the doctor helps her stand up and get back to bed, saying it’s a normal reaction for Shauna’s injury.
It doesn’t help with her dizziness, it only makes her more aware of how empty her belly is. And the fact that the doctor keeps talking makes her even more confused.
The doctor doesn’t know the exact answer to how she got the brain injury, the others said she hit a tree and fell. But Shauna is too worried thinking who the others are to hear the rest of her explanation.
The only part she grasps is that some doctors in the US will finish discussing if her amnesia is only by physical trauma or there's an emotional component to it.
She makes her eat crackers in front of her and Shauna devours it in seconds. Her mouth waters instantly and she’s not sure whether she tasted the food at all.
Her stomach stirs, needing more, something real.
Shauna is given more crackers and she swallows it before she gets to taste it, again.
After being instructed for the third time to chew and taste before swallowing, Shauna manages to feel salt and grimaces at it, swallowing harder than the other two packs.
The doctors says she will send in some food after she’s done with her exam and Shauna can’t fucking wait.
She thinks she is done, but the doctor checks every fucking thing possible, from sticking out her tongue to naming pictures and telling the hospital she was born until she is finally done.
She leaves the room but the military guy doesn’t.
Her stomach rumbles at the expectation of food and soon her wishes come true.
The nurse brings a plate that make her mouth waters – fucking mashed potatoes with meatloaf and cooked carrots.
Holy shit, there's even chocolate pudding for dessert.
She gasps on her first bite, it's too salty, too dry, but holy shit it's food.
Her eyes blur and the sobs soon follow. Her stomach growls at the sight of real shitty hospital food, too lukewarm for her taste but a dream come true.
By the way her body is reacting she knows the doctor was telling the truth.
She hasn’t had a real meal in two years.
The tears make the wet food even wetter and saltier, but it doesn’t matter, because Shauna is alive and eating. She is back in civilization and her body reckons that while her mind didn’t even register she had been out for so long.
She devours dinner, the use of a plastic fork and knife foreign on her shaky fingers, but so damn worth it.
Through her weeping, she tears the lid of the puddling and the smell of chocolate filling her nostrils brings more embarrassing sounds out of her.
Her stomach seems to not catch up to the amount of food she's having. It brings it all back and before Shauna knows it, she's squirming out of the bed to let it all out on the trashcan next to her bed.
Fuck fuck fuck. The acidic smell and the salty tears and everything really, it's too much.
People are at her aid in no time, one holding her hair while the other keeps her steady.
First meal in two years and she already fucked up. Her stomach growls and she can’t even tell what is going on anymore because her head throbs with the nauseating feeling.
She can’t believe her stupid body for making her vomit twice in less than a fucking hour.
Someone's telling her soothing words and she knows it's the nurse, but she can't bring to herself to reply. Her body is weak and the floor tiles looks so inviting.
She stares at the floor, her eyes hurt to stay open but it aches even more when she shuts them.
The nurse stands by her side and she fights to stay awake and be nice to her, but she feels completely numb.
She startles, her arms are strained again, fuck.
The smell of puke is in the air and she wonders how long she was passed out, again.
Seeing the room empty, she presses the call button.
Her head pounds even worse than before, like she went on a party and got thrashed to the point she's living a hallucination in which she thinks she's in Canada.
It wasn’t a hallucination she finds out, as a nurse different from the one who held her enters her room with a bright smile.
She looks a little older, with more wrinkles on her face than the one before her.
“Ms. Shipman, how are you feeling?” She asks while checking her monitor.
“Can I take the pain med right now?” The nurse actually laughs at her.
“Ms. Shipman, you have to wait two hours for your next dose.”
“Oh.”
But meds or no meds, her head rings and she stinks, so she gambles for the next best thing: “Can I shower?”
The nurse glances at the spyglass, does someone need to approve that too?
“I’ll see what I can do.” She gulps, finishing checking her vitals and soon Shauna is left alone to stare at the glass.
She can’t see much from afar and her head aches just trying to ignore the shadows to see herself, but fuck, she looks so different.
Her head is bandaged through and through, she wonders briefly if they shaved her hair for it.
Her gown is dirty with puke, and without the blanket, the restraints make her perfect to present as a madwoman incarcerated to not harm anyone.
The nurse comes back with another guy in black, this one isn't wearing sunglasses, but he doesn't meet her eyes as he takes the restraints off, neither does he say a word while the nurse – Ingrid – tells her with a huge grin that she is allowed to shower and change into real clothes while she’d help her with it.
She thanks her while being guided to the door inside her room she hadn’t noticed before.
The man glances at her skeptically but she ignores him, taking the clothes from Ingrid’s hand and setting it on the sink.
It smells badly just like the rest of the hospital.
Ingrid doesn't leave her yet, she motions for her to stay put while she takes her bandages off. She gives out some orientation Shauna doesn't pay attention to.
Once being freed, the nurse keeps asking if she needs any more help before leaving her alone in the bathroom.
Shauna jumps into the shower as fast as she can.
The fetid smell doesn't disappear, but lukewarm water running through her body is so relaxing. She scrubs each part ferociously, rinsing and applying more soap than necessary. She is dizzy from moving her head to scrub her legs, but it's bearable. At least the nausea isn't so bad.
By the end of it, she finishes an entire bar soap.
It helps her mind clear and wander elsewhere.
Why are military personnel watching her? Why are they controlling each of her movements?
If her plane crashed, then she is a survivor, not a murderer.
Maybe not all of them survived and that’s why they were worried someone would try and kill them.
Her thoughts are all over the place, she can’t seem to focus on anything. She tries grasping to the fact she's alive, but even looking at the mirror is so odd.
She wipes the foggy glass with her hand to stare at the person looking back at her.
Her body is way leaner than she remembers, but her face looks so different. She grits her teeth, sticks out her tongue, but the face in the mirror mimics her actions. It aches to move, as though this stranger's body is getting used to this Shauna.
Her eyes have bags underneath it, her brows have wrinkles in them she doesn’t remember, her nose has a small scar now. Her cheeks are bone-deep, lacking the fat she saw just yesterday– fine, not yesterday.
Why does her heart ache so much? Her tear streaked face looks so weird. Her brown eyes seems even browner than she last checked, like they were hollowed out. She tries relaxing, but her body is stiff, filled with scars and purple points she doesn't recognize.
She has light streaks on her body she didn’t have before. Stretch marks on her hips and breasts that don’t look as close to what she remembers. She touches them and it feels weird.
The doctor did tell her she is on a lot of medications for conditions Shauna didn’t pay attention to, maybe this can explain it
She keeps staring and at least her abdomen is more toned, though way flatter than she remembers. Her arms are too, her biceps are defined for some reason? At least she came out of it stronger, she supposes.
Even her hair is different. Longer and auburn like she’d get on the summer sometimes, and very dehydrated. There’s a stitched red line where hair was supposed to be on the middle of the left side of her head, just behind her ear, probably where she hit her head. She hopes her hair will grow again, because for now her hairdresser would have a month’s worth of salary dealing with her mess.
Ingrid knocks on the door and she lets the woman in to help her dress. She helps her keep her balance as she puts on the underwear and top. Both are her size, which is weird – maybe they had already measured her in her sleep? Her heart aches with that thought. Ingrid helps her fit her arms on the sleeves of the navy blue long-sleeved shirt (also her size), ignoring her groans at the movement. But even with the help, she almost trips when she has to close her eyes to put the shirt on.
She puts on black sweatpants and it’s all so comfortable, Shauna would be thrilled if it wasn’t so hard to put them on.
Ingrid guides her to sit on the toilet before putting on her shoes for her.
She stares at the footwear and it’s a pair of socks and crocs. Not her usual wear, but it is comfortable and more private than the hospital gown she was wearing.
Once she is fully dressed, Ingrid offers her arm to walk her back to bed and Shauna’s feet move better now, not stumbling once on her way back.
“When can I see my friends?” She asks, stopping by her bed.
The white room with a white bed is pathetically clinical. If Shauna isn’t insane yet, this asylum will make her lose it.
“Soon.” She answers automatically.
“Can you tell me the names of them?” She asks and the soft shake of head Ingrid gives her is genuine.
She sits on the bed and the guy is quick to tie her hands and legs without saying a word.
Ingrid repeats the doctor's words that it’s just a safety measurement, but only comes closer with a new gauze when the guy in black staring at her backs away to the corner next to the glass mirror.
She isn’t gonna punch anyone, not that she remembers doing so in the first place. Why can they trust her with showering by herself but not with staying put on a bed?
The nurse quickly bandages her again and this time, Shauna can’t hold back the questions.
When can I take off the bandages? Soon, she replies (again).
When am I leaving? Soon, like it is the only thing she is allowed to say.
Can you answer my questions with anything that isn’t ‘soon’? Soon, she says this time with a smile on her face and Shauna would laugh if she didn’t need those answers.
Ingrid asks her to wait for the psychologist and while she leaves the room the guy doesn’t.
It send alarms in her head, is now the time the torture begins? She’s already tied to a bed and he most definitely has a gun by the way he keeps touching his pant's pocket.
“Are you military?” She asks and he pretends to not hear her.
She doesn’t let her face show how much control he has. She doesn’t look away, won’t look away, no matter how threatening this guy might be.
Her head rings and she can’t resist the hiss she lets out, but she won’t drop it that easily.
It keeps spinning and her glance falters for a moment to wonder when was the time they gave her medicine.
She thinks of Ingrid’s empathetic smile and how her mom would bore the same one, she can’t wait to see her again. Although her mind tries to convince her she saw her yesterday, her body just knows the distance has been the longest they have endured yet.
She wants to ask her what happened, who she was in the two years before the crash that she doesn’t remember, if she was a good daughter. She wants to seek refuge in those arms that would sacrifice herself in every way just so Shauna could be happy.
It brings her horror to think her mother must think she is dead right now.
Fuck, she probably has been mourning Shauna for months now and Shauna can’t even remember the years she spent away.
She fights her eyes from dropping, trying to get herself in a more uncomfortable position for it, but her neck cranes, her head rings and she is exhausted.
A woman clears her throat next to her and she startles.
Her head throbs at the bright light, but the figure next to her makes her widen and lean towards her,
“Jackie?” She mumbles.
Her vision clears and she sees that it’s a blonde woman wearing glasses, she has wrinkles on her eyebrows, her eyes are brown and small and her lips too. Nothing like Jackie.
The woman offers her a tight lipped smile and shakes her head.
“I’m Joan Carter. I’m a psychologist who came here to have a small talk with you.” She has an eerie feeling over her. That same flight instinct takes place, screaming at her run, run, run. And if her hands weren’t tied she would. She’s sure of it.
Shauna slowly nods, sighing in pain when the movement still hurts.
“So tell me, how are you feeling right now?”
She doesn’t know, she realizes. She feels pain, she feels weird, she feels an odd sense of guilt and she misses her best friend.
They stare, Shauna tries thinking of answers but none seem right enough.
“There’s no right or wrong, Shauna.” She coddles her and Shauna finds that absurd, they aren’t on a first name basis and she doesn’t want them to be.
“My head hurts.” She says eventually, pushing down the annoyance. “I want to leave.” I want to find Jackie, I want to find my ‘friends’ whoever they are. I want to wake up in my bed with the realization this was just some fucked up nightmare.
The doctor huffs, a smile still tight on her face. “We’re working on that.” Each passing second she stares into those brown eyes. “Tell me what you remember.”
“I don’t know.” She doesn’t feel like sharing with her at all. “I was just– hanging out with my best friend when it all went blank.”
“Jackie?” She supplies and Shauna nods. “What were you doing?”
God, what were they doing? She thought she drank too much and ended up hitting her head on the pavement.
Then she wondered if they were in a car accident.
But now that there was a plane crash, she can’t think of their last moment together. When did it happen again? How did she survive it? Besides her friends, did the pilot survive? Were they assisted?
The doctor is staring at her expectantly and oh right, she asked her a question, didn’t she?
“Do you know anything about the plane crash?”
She narrows her eyes on her, “Flight 2525, it happened in June of ‘96 while your soccer team was going to a championship. Do you remember it?” She shakes her head, her chest fills with dread.
“Do the others remember?” Am I the only one fucked up?
She bites her lip and Shauna wants to shake her, plead for her to answer a question of hers.
“Is it normal for my head to be this messed up?”
“Yes, it’s perfectly normal for you to forget some things. You were in a traumatic experience, Shauna, I'm here to guide you through it, though. In your case, I’m sure hitting your head must make it even harder to remember, but it’s completely ordinary.”
Too many words make her head throb more apparent.
“I didn’t hear a word you said.” She confesses.
She nods at her.
“You just woke up after a week of drifting in and out of consciousness. I’d be surprised if you were suddenly fully aware of everything around you, Shauna.”
She nods, hissing at the movement. Fuck, she really gotta stop doing that.
“Tell me then, last week a helicopter went down to rescue you and–” She fades out, staring at her perfectly made eyebrow, wondering about the last time she did her own brows. She didn't pay attention to them after showering, but that’s probably a good thing.
“Can you tell me the name of the other survivors?” She asks once the doctor stops talking.
“Sorry, Shauna, that is not up to me to tell you. The military will come talk to you once I’m over, okay?”
Shit.
She’s doing such a shitty job of acting like a human being, this doctor will probably keep her while Jackie gets to fly home without her. Her heart aches with the thought, Jackie wouldn’t leave her, would she?
Have all of them gone through the military yet? And been off the hook after answering some dumb questions?
“How long has it been since they went to the ‘compound’?” The doctor smiles and shakes her head, as though she also can’t answer that.
But if only she had complications, then the others are already angry at her for stalling them.
Maybe they are scheming to leave her behind.
If they are planning against her, then she has to do her best to be discharged as soon as possible. She wouldn’t want to miss their way out of here. But is lack of patience enough for them to do that? Would they turn on her? Would Jackie allow that?
She hiss in pain, that’s a train of thought too dangerous for her to have now.
She swallows dry, “Am I insane, doc?”
Maybe this is it, maybe she was always deranged and the safety of her attic protected her from behaving like the monster gnawing inside her skin begged her to. Maybe living in a crash site was enough to bring out the worst of her.
“Oh, Shauna. There is no such thing as insanity, I can assure you.” Her tone isn’t soothing at all. She feels crazy. “On the contrary, we can say something might be a signal of a mental disorder, but that does not mean you’re crazy.” Right, technicalities. Tomato, tomahto for fuck’s sake.
Her vision blurs, the doctor’s voice seems far away.
“Do I have something that’s wrong with me, then?” Her voice is weak, her words echo’s her soul’s fears.
“I doubt any professional would be able to complete a diagnosis in a week, sweetie, but there’s nothing ‘wrong’ with you.” She hates the mom voice, how it portrays a warmth that isn’t there. Shauna wants to scream to bring back the nurse that had been with her, not this loudmouth.
The temperature increased at least two degrees since she began talking with this woman, she can’t take it anymore. She needs to leave, to reunite with Jackie, to come back from it.
“But let’s get back on track, shall we?” She sighs. “Do you remember the moment you hit your head?”
Shauna closes her eyes, trying hard to grasp at the memory in the ocean of her mind. She reaches for anything, just a glimmer of thought, but comes up empty-handed.
If it wasn’t for the dizziness or the pain, she wouldn’t know she hit her head at all.
She asks about Shauna’s behavior in the wilderness and she can’t remember, her head is pounding too much to think of survival skills she probably had to learn. She shakes her head at her, hating that there’s not a single straight answer she gave to the doctor.
Dr. Jean hums and keeps asking about her emotions, but how can Shauna answer when she doesn’t remember any of it?
How did you feel when winter came? Sad, she replies with uncertainty. Her heart aches at the thought of winter.
How did you push through it? What was your motivation? Survival, she replies as uncertain as the first question.
When your friends died, did you want to follow them? No, she denies, knowing that as long as Jackie is alive she was alive too.
There are whispers in her ears, an ache in her heart telling her otherwise, but she won’t listen to it. For all she cares, her mind is fucked and so must be her gut.
“You really can’t tell me if you heard anything at all about Jackie Taylor?” She pleads, knowing she’s putting all her cards on the table, but fuck it. She needs her best friend.
“How long have you been friends for?” Dr. Jean asks instead.
“Since I was five.” She’s known her before she had a real personality, before she could even make sense of what love was. “I was sitting on the corner watching the other kids and she came to me, holding this coloring book so we could paint it together.”
Her eyes well with tears she desperately fights to keep. She used to love stealing Jackie’s crayons just to draw her a big heart with five different shades of pink and green. Jackie would pout at her for all of ten seconds before looping her in the tightest hug.
She misses how simple things were back then, Jackie was already controlling but whenever she asked something Shauna didn’t want to do and she kept insisting on it, Shauna would solve it by biting her.
Her best friend would cry and stop talking and that was when Shauna’s anger faded and she’d jump into her arms full of apologies on her tongue and pressing kisses all over the place she bit.
Now, when Jackie got controlling she’d just pretend to not hear it and get that same pout. They would be weird for a moment until one of them managed to crack a joke.
Dr. Jean clears her throat and Shauna wishes she could rub her eyes to make the dizziness go away.
She looks at her and the woman narrows her eyes on her.
“Did you join the Yellowjackets together?” By her tone, it’s not the first time she’s asked.
She frowns, her head winces at the memory.
“Yeah…” She hates the sadness in her tone. “Jackie loved soccer and she used to play it every summer in the hotel she’d travel to. She wanted to join the team and make it to varsity before junior year.”
“And you didn’t?”
“They took me once on a trip when we were in second grade, but I didn’t like spending time away from mom.” And the way those rich kids would frown upon her not knowing what caviar was. “Afterwards we spent most of our summers separated.”
“But did you like soccer?”
She huffs, of course she did.
Coach Martinez was an asshole and his half-arsed way of talking didn’t help, but Shauna can perfectly remember him listing out the names for varsity.
Jackie’s came first and her heart soared with fear she would be playing JV alone. Then he called her name and all sound exited from her ears because they were together on the team and Jackie was jumping into her with a adorable grin.
They didn’t even make it to Regionals, but she loved the thrill of playing, the possibility of a pass making them win (most times lose) or how Coach would talk strategies to them. Besides, all the hang outs Jackie forced her to go would bring her unforgettable memories.
“It was fun, I guess.”
“Were you friends with anyone besides Jackie?” Shauna recoils from the way she phrases it. Of course she’s already gauged Shauna doesn’t have a life outside her best friend, but she knows it’s a lie.
She fucking has a life. She loves many things and what's the problem with also loving what her best friend does?
“The rest of the team was cool.” She thinks of the people who made it to varsity with them, but then again, she’s bound to talk with the military soon.
Is this their way of asking who in the plane accident she liked? Shauna doesn’t know who came out of it alive and the idea of naming someone that’s dead bothers her broken mind.
What if they use it against her?
She thinks of her other pastimes, there’s only one other where she’d talk almost as much as soccer.
“I would hang out sometimes with Cris from the school lit magazine.”
“Oh, you liked literature too?” She says full of pity.
She can’t remember the last book she read, perhaps The Waves? Or something more classic like The Tempest? She remembers reading both, but it’s been so long since she picked up a book, she wants to reread them.
“I like to read.” She had been thinking about becoming an English major, but there were so many options to choose from and Shauna had no idea what she wanted to do with her life forever.
Right now she doesn’t feel like going to school or anywhere else, really. Even thinking of going to the market makes her head ache. Her body aches for her to stay locked in her attic with blankets, hot cocoa and a book instead of the cold world.
“That’s great to hear, Shauna. Reading is good for your m–”
She tunes out and hums in return, unsure what to answer. She glances at the spyglass and three shadows remain watching her.
When she presses again about people from the team, Shauna says she used to hang out with all of them sometimes, but weren’t as close.
She’s already talked too much today, her mouth hurts.
In fact, Shauna has spoken so much her throat is dry and the dull ache in her head makes her question about the medicine again, but Shauna is only supposed to take another dose at night.
At least Dr. Jean is nice enough to give her a cup of water with a straw, so she doesn’t have to untie her or risk her choking.
But she’s done being analyzed. The doctor rambles about Shauna’s state of mind and it’s such a dull subject, she stares out the glass, wondering if one of the shadows could save her.
Understanding her questions aren’t going anywhere, she finally gives up and offers her a condescending smile before leaving Shauna to her own devices.
She wishes Dr. Jean had at least deemed her polite enough to untie those restraints, but apparently Shauna is still dangerous to the people.
If Shauna has been aggressive to anyone here, she hopes it was to that guy standing watching her like she’d weep at any minute.
His squared face and blonde hair looks too good to throw a punch at. He’s wearing sunglasses but he almost reminds her of Jackie’s stupid boyfriend if he was older and knew how to wear suits and had more muscles and wasn’t such a blabbermouth.
She huffs, wondering if she still hated that nitwit as much as she did in sophomore year. Probably.
Another man dressed in a brown overcoat this time shows up and fuck, Shauna can’t catch a fucking break. Can’t Ingrid show up with a second portion of food? She would promise to not puke it this time.
He’s different from the security guys, but he talks and behaves as military as the rest of them. He even gawks at the bandage on her head.
Shauna is tired of fake politeness and having her hands tied. If he claims he’s not afraid of her, why does she have to remain chained like a tiger in a cage? She glances at the glass and this time can faintly differ three shadows.
She should be charging them to see this spectacle in the front row. She doesn’t even know her role in the show and yet they seem eager to watch her.
“Ms. Shipman?” He asks and by the frown on his face it’s not the first time. Satisfied with the attention being back at him, he goes on, explaining something about having to question all the survivors.
He seems gregarious, like he genuinely wants to know what happened ‘out there’ and has the best intentions with her, but she knows it’s an act. Really, they all should get nominated for pretending to care.
Ingrid so far has the head-start, but maybe because she reminds her of mom, just maybe.
He repeats her name again and she nods, hoping it was a yes or no question.
He sighs, looking at her with his brows furrowed, a wrinkle creased in his forehead. He’s probably in his fifties already, if the gray hair and wrinkles are anything to go by.
“Ms. Shipman, Dr. Wilson told me about your head trauma, do you understand what I’m saying?”
She wants to laugh, to spit at his old face and ask what kind of question is that.
He glances at the guy who’s been watching her and clears his throat, “She was comprehending and talking to the others, wasn’t she?” He whispers but Shauna hears it loud and clear. She pays attention to his American accent, it’s the first time she’s heard someone talk like her and it finally made sense why the others spoke so funny – they were fucking french.
The man eyes her skeptically then nods at the guy who must be his boss. “Yes, sir.” Oh so he can talk! Just not to her, what a surprise. “She stopped answering the psychologist midway through, though.”
Yeah, because she's tired and her head keeps spinning when she pays attention to every micro detail in their weird behavior.
He looks back at his notebook then at her. “Okay, Ms. Shipman, I can let you rest and come back later, would you prefer that?”
She just wants to leave.
But the others were discharged, so maybe she will be spared if she behaves now.
“I’m hungry and thirsty.”
He fucking smiles like he won the lottery.
“That can be easily dealt with,” He even presses the call button for her. “We can talk while you dine.”
“Can you take these off, too?” She glances at her hands and he huffs.
“Maybe once the food arrives, yes?” He has an almost smug look on his face that betrays his false gentleness. As long as she gets to eat she won’t do anything harsh.
He looks at her expectantly, has he already asked another question in the five seconds she spent staring at the glass?
“So, you spent nineteen months in the wilderness, what do you remember from it?”
Is he gonna repeat the same questions as the other two that came before him? Shauna’s confused mind won’t bear it anymore.
He waits for her to say something but really, what can she say that won’t sound like a fucking lie?
“Try thinking about it.” He says it like it's easy to know. Fuck him.
She wonders about it. But the idea of thinking is instantly repulsed. It makes her want to recoil, to beg for help and sorrow as guilt crawls in her chest.
Her heart is squeezes tight.
She can recall the hunting trip her father took her to when she was thirteen, a last pitiful attempt of bringing them together before he decided to drift to birthday cards and monthly checks with a stupid post card.
Shauna had been so scared on their trip to Pennsylvania, it was after he had his second boy so they were alone for some father-daughter bonding time and she wanted her mom more than anything. She cried on the way there and on the way back.
She vividly remembers him calling her a pussy and a little girl (which she literally was) when she didn’t take the shot to murder a deer.
Then he made her follow the trail and hunt it the next day just so he could shoot it. She remembers his hunting rifle and the piercing noise it made on her ears when he killed it.
He laughed at her weeping because of the poor creature. He was the kind of father that let his daughter sleep without dinner because she refused to eat it after they paid a butcher to prepare the meal for them.
The next day of the trip he forced the gun on her hand again and Shauna’s hands had trembled from how furious she had been at him, how dark thoughts had rotten her head and she shoot a rabbit that day.
She remembers her father proudly patting her on the back while Shauna fucking wanted it to be him instead of the rabbit for a moment. The poor creature was too small to salvage any meat, her father had made her kill it for sport and she wanted to scream at him for it, instead she had cried to her pillow and swore off shooting firearms ever again.
She hated him for trying to bond with something he liked and not something more warming like books or music. Then those two boys will grow up and probably be down in those same woods shooting innocent animals in a few years. Maybe even his new wife is a wildlife enthusiast unlike bookworm Shauna and her workaholic mother.
Dull Guy in brown clears his throat again and she startles, back at the bright white room.
“Right, we were flying because of a soccer game and the plane crashed, I guess.” She hopes that answers his question, whatever the fuck it was.
He frowns, “Ms. Shipman, I asked you what do you remember about your time in the Canadian wilderness?”
Ohhh, so that’s why she was thinking of the trip, right.
This guy staring right at her does seem to know or have his suspicions of what her answer might be.
He doesn’t seem to like it, though.
Is that why he’s here? To sentence her to death?
“We hunted deers and bunnies.” She guesses, her head is spinning. “We fished too, there was a lake we’d gather water from.”
She never forgave her father for that stupid trip, but at least now it fills the blanks from what really went down. Shauna doubts it’s much different than that trip. Both of them passed excruciatingly slowly and she probably felt like crying for her mom all the time.
He waits patiently, but a voice in her head tells her to keep her mouth shut. If only she could talk to Jackie to know why.
“Do you remember the plane crash?” It’s a scripted question, and the way he says it’s clear the others gave him a scripted answer.
“Yeah, it was shaky, a lot of turbulence and alarms were sounding, we were really scared.” She lies, picturing every single nightmare she has ever had about plane crashes before.
“Alarms?” He looks at her skeptically and fuck, what did she fuck up this time?
She tries thinking about it, but she can only think how Jackie was with her and they were in a lot of pain.
She hates flying, how did they manage to put her on one in the first place? She’d gladly take any distance by car.
“Do you remember who died in the plane crash?”
She flinches.
People died in the crash?
Jackie?
Her vital monitor shows him the hurricane inside her chest.
No, no, Jackie can’t have died in the crash, she would pull through. She used to fly all the damn time, she’d be more prepared than anyone to survive the fall.
And Jackie isn’t dead. She screams into her head, rewiring each neuron telling her otherwise. She won’t believe it.
“Who was on the plane?” She asks, wanting to have at least some clue to the criminal board she’s concocting in her mind. She begs her heart to slow down, breathing in and out repeatedly, but it only ricochets, causing her vision to blur and her mind to run in circles.
“Your soccer team, the pilot and co-pilot and a flight attendant.”
“I think they died in the crash.” She mumbles after a while.
“You ‘think’?” He ponders.
She nods, the motion makes her hiss again. Fuck, how could she have forgotten the pain? At least she wasn’t running at 130 bpm anymore.
“Who died in the crash?”
“The adults, the team.” She won’t say the name her brain is telling her to, she cannot say that name. Since he already is aware of her memory being gone, she gives up one of her cards, “Can’t you tell me who survived?”
He gapes at her.
Shauna wishes she was faking when she asks that question.
“Who do you think survived, Ms. Shipman?”
She glares at him before she can think twice.
Fucking entitled asshole.
He’s on the bottom line now for ‘pretending to care’ nomination. He’s not even trying anymore.
“You remember the crash and flashes, yes? Don’t you have an idea of who survived?” He says coldly and Shauna gets the reason for the restraints.
She pictures her fist crossing his cheek and hates that she cannot act on it.
Her arms even move on reflex, but not enough.
He flinches slightly from her, but at least he doesn’t open his mouth to say a shitty comment again.
After a moment of silence, the nurse comes holding a tray and Shauna hadn’t even seen her come beforehand to ask her to bring food.
It’s the same dish from before, without the puddling this time and in smaller portions.
She waits for either of the two men to release her, but neither makes a move. Dull guy in black stares with a newfound interest as though Shauna is a dog who finally chewed the bone he was expecting her to the entire time. And the guy in brown next to her is baffled.
It’s annoying and Shauna wants to tell him to fuck himself.
But thoughts of being discharged holds her back from an argument.
She tries to smile, but the motion is so foreign to her face it hurts her lips and cheeks. Her muscles have forgotten the hows and she knows she’s giving them a weird look instead of the one she wants to.
“Uhm am I supposed to eat this with my hands tied?” She tries for naivety, but knows she’s failing.
He glances at the plastic knife on her tray and fine, maybe he has a reason to be afraid.
Dull guy is given the green light and he comes over to untie her.
She quickly grasp the fork to tab the mashed potato and fuck, it still tastes salty as hell, but now Shauna is expecting it. Teardrops fall from her eyes straight into the plate but she’s smarter to eat it slower than the first time. The overcooked beef tastes so good, so full of life.
Whoever was in charge of the food out in the woods deserves to be demoted, this is real food.
“So, what are your thoughts in relation to Charlotte Matthews?”
She swallows the food before glancing at him. “Who?”
The name is familiar but it isn’t until he pulls open a file on a photo of a brunette Shauna has known since fifth grade that she recognizes.
Fuck, of course it’s Lottie he’s asking about.
She looks dazzling in her Yellowjackets' uniform, smiling at the camera, making Shauna wonder if she was the one to take it. She's loved photography since her mom gave her a camera for her thirteenth birthday.
She wants to trace the picture, go back to that moment in which things seemed way easier than they must be now.
Lottie looks so full of life, she hopes she can see her soon.
Dull Guy clears his throat and Shauna has to fight glaring at him.
He repeats his question and Shauna nods, “She was nice, she used to invite us to hang out sometimes.” Dull Guy doesn’t seem pleased with her answer, frowning at Shauna like she’s mistaken.
“Would you say she’s a danger to other people?”
“No.”
She savors the mashed potatoes, but his words make bile rise in her chest.
“Do you remember her attitude in the woods?”
“She was quiet.” She guesses, Lottie always had a way of being quiet when you needed it. And Shauna needed it a lot.
“Did you know she was going through psychosis?” He says it like he knows every answer to the universe.
“No? What do you mean by psychosis?”
“Your friend has schizophrenia that was untreated for a long period of time, causing her to enter a psychosis state.”
She shakes her head, no, this cannot be true.
“She acted normal to me.” She lies.
Maybe the schizophrenia is real but she wasn’t psychotic. She would never do anything to hurt people.
“Lottie suffered a lot.” The pain made roots and thorns inside each one of them, Shauna feels it in her bones like an itch and she knows whoever came out of the woods is wounded.
She hates to think Jackie is hurting like that, what if she’s alone in the compound thinking Shauna abandoned her?
“Do the others know I’m here?” She asks, swallowing more of her food.
He frowns.
“Yeah, Ms. Shipman, they are aware of your case.”
“But do they know I got a concussion? Or that I don’t remember sh- stuff.” She corrects.
He keeps frowning. “Yeah, Ms. Shipman. Now let’s get back to the questions, shall we? Why did she suffer?”
Shauna sees a light resemblance of this stupid man to her father, how he'd often rush Shauna's stories so she'd get to the point of it and he could pat her back and be done with her.
But this guy isn't her father. And he's probably in charge of the decision regarding her leaving or not.
“She’s rich… can you imagine being rich and not being able to pay your way out?” Maybe it’s a cruel thought to have, but she has this gut feeling that Lottie must be protected, that she owes her.
“Do you think she’s capable of killing someone?”
She narrows her eyes on him.
It makes her dizzy, how stupid is that question? Shauna’s head runs in circles trying to think of it.
“Why would Lottie kill someone?” It shrinks her chest to think of the honest answer to this.
“Do you think you’re capable of doing it then?”
She holds back a huff, he’s the biggest asshole she’s seen since she last saw her father, and she has been hanging out with Jackie’s boyfriend and his dumb best friend for weeks.
“What kind of question is that? Why would I do something like that?”
He stares at her, like she’s lying. But really, why would Shauna want to hurt anyone? The only reason is if someone has wronged her or Jackie, and she has this gut wrenching feeling that a lot of people have.
The worst part is she feels like she wounded Jackie too. But that can’t be true, she loves Jackie more than anything in the world, she wouldn’t do something to hurt her. She shuts the voice in her head questioning her, wouldn’t she?
She goes back to her food while Dull Guy frowns like it’s the only expression he can make.
“Ms. Shipman, when you first woke up, you attacked the nurses and staff, why is that?”
She didn’t know she had attacked the nurses. Damn. Is she supposed to apologize to Ingrid the next time she sees her? She was hoping to have punched this dumbfuck and his buddy sitting on the corner of the room, not the nice people.
“I don’t know.”
He presses on, asking if she knew she was doing it in the first place, but Shauna can’t recall.
“I woke up with restraints on my wrists, sir. That’s all I know.”
He frowns, writing in his notebook in defeat. Shauna tries squinting to see it but he’s clinging the small black notebook to his chest.
“Does the word frog researchers ring any bells in your head?” Frog researchers? A gnawing feeling on chest burns her.
She shakes her head, despite her instincts telling her otherwise. Jackie used to like frogs, maybe that’s what’s wrong. Maybe Jackie wanted to be a frog researcher.
“You see Ms. Shipman, six months ago, a couple of frog researchers went out to the same woods you and your friends were in and disappeared in it.” Her face darkens with his implication. “They never came back and their bodies haven’t been found.”
So it isn’t related to her best friend. No. It's him accusing her of something Shauna doesn't even know what it means.
She waits for the shoe to drop, for him to say he's telling a joke.
“Do you have any idea of what may have happened to them?” He asks like he already knows everything that went out and now he’s just searching for the culprit's confession.
She stares at him, trying hard to remember. Her head throbs to think, but she thinks she’s heard that word before.
“Frog researchers?” She repeats and he nods. “Uh- maybe they are waiting to be found like we were.” If years went by without them being rescued, perhaps those scientists can wait a little longer. “And they must have more outdoor skills to survive, so maybe they are still out there.”
It’s not the answer he is looking for, but he nods and writes in his notebook. “Don’t you remember running into them?” His tone is accusatory.
Shauna shakes her head. She swallows the cold mashed potatoes with beef, she just tastes the salt now.
“Do you think we’d hurt them?” She asks and hates the sorrow in her voice.
He repeats her questions, “Do you think you’d hurt them?” She shakes her head.
He goes in circles on this subject. Shauna doesn’t get the importance of frog researchers and their business getting lost in the woods like they did, but she almost wants him to stay on that when he resumes his questions on other people from the team and the name she wishes to hear the most doesn’t come.
What do you think about Taissa Turner? This time he shows the picture and Shauna is sure of who he’s talking about, so she just answers, ‘She’s nice’.
He proceeds to ask the same questions he asked about Lottie this time about Taissa, then next about a girl she doesn’t even know who might be and the picture doesn’t bring her any memories.
She counts three names and none of them is Jackie’s, which brings a weird feeling in her stomach.
Her throat closes as his subjects change again, asking more general stuff she hasn’t the faintest idea what the answer could be.
What did you do during the day?
How did you stay busy?
How did you fight hunger?
Did you have any sort of rituals that would happen daily?
Was there a split of tasks and roles you played? And a bunch of weird questions that must’ve been proposed by jesters wanting to see the freak show.
Was there someone in charge? Were you in charge? She scoffs at his question, Shauna and leadership is such an odd combination, her name would never be next to ‘Captain’ or ‘Boss’ when she's used to being her best friend’s shadow.
She opens her mouth to say her name, but closes it when the idea of a bad response is too grand. She is such a coward, two syllables she cannot say out loud because it might shatter her whole world. Jackie is alive, she tells herself.
He only asks about three people, Jackie is surely one of the other four survivors. She has to be.
Once he is done with his questions, Shauna asks about her friends and if she’s gonna be released.
Like the fucking joke that she is, he ignores the question about the rest and replies the latter with ‘soon’ and forces the other dull guy to tie her again and take the empty dishes away from her.
He leaves her without saying goodbye and Shauna is once again left alone with the guy in black.
“So, can I at least have your name?” She asks him and he doesn’t react.
If it wasn’t for the one-worded answers he gave to the guy in brown and the doctors she’d think he’s deaf.
“Really, what am I supposed to do?”
She glances at the shadows in the mirror and a fourth shows up, probably Dull Guy. Whatever.
Waking up and realizing the entirety of yesterday wasn’t a nightmare is even worse than not dreaming at all.
Ingrid isn’t here, but another nurse brings her breakfast and the sight of food makes her mouth water.
It’s toast with cheese and milk but Shauna’s stomach grumbles in dire need.
Another dull guy comes to untie her and much like the other he doesn’t greet her. Someone should tell those assholes that being polite won’t take away their badges
She asks when she is supposed to leave but neither the nurse nor the guy reply.
Dr. Wilson shows up quickly to asks the same questions she asked yesterday. Shauna huffs when she asks her birth date again as though that would change.
Getting used to saying 1998 is weird though, and she fails naming the doctor's name and the hospital’s name, but whatever, her head winces just as much as it did yesterday and they are barely acknowledging her as a person.
They just ask questions, but no one bothers to ask if she wants water or go to the bathroom – and thinking about it makes her realize she does want to – but oh well, she has at least three more tests to complete.
She hates it.
It’s no wonder that when she tells her five words to be memorized, Shauna can’t name any of them when she asks again after five minutes.
Or the fact she fails a story test because her head stopped making sense halfway through? At least the doctor says she is better with her own orientations than yesterday. Shauna doesn’t see it as much progress, though.
There’s also a trauma test that it’s laughful. How can she knows if something triggers her when she don’t even know what she went through?
Dr. Wilson finishes a naming test and fucking answer that someone will be allowed to visit her tomorrow.
She explains something about her being distressed and that seeing a familiar face might help her, but Shauna can only picture hazel eyes, blonde hair and that tight-lipped grin Jackie has just for her.
She can’t wait to see her. To hug her and force her to stay with her until the military is done with her. She hopes that once they see the way she’s with Jackie they will release her.
It doesn’t matter, though. As long as Jackie is with her then she’ll gladly wait and answer all of the brainless questions.
Besides, Jackie will help her for sure - only her best friend would be able to do a full debrief of the past four years - and Shauna would cling to every word.
She just hopes she isn’t that different like Shauna is.
Shit, how did her friend get used to Shauna’s face? Did she get scared of her changing so much?
Her vision blurs in the middle of a memory game and Dr. Wilson offers her tissues. It’s the smallest gesture, but it makes her eyes tear up more.
Her sixteenth birthday is still a blur to her, much like her entire high-school experience. When Dr. Wilson asks questions about famous people she cannot for the life of her remember those school lessons.
It’s ludicrous how she can name the fifty states in alphabetical order, but cannot answer how she spent every single day of her existence in the past four years.
She knows the three shadows behind the glass-mirror must find it as absurd as she does. They are probably viciously writing in their little notebooks how this unhinged teenage girl completely forgot what must have been the most traumatic experience in her life.
It brings an ache in her stomach. She shouldn’t come out of this unshaken. Shauna’s been called a survivor and she knows deep down that she endured enough to earn the title. So why doesn’t she feel like one?
She looks at Dr. Wilson and she’s stopped talking. Fuck, how long has she been just staring at the lady?
She smiles at Shauna and it’s too sweet to be true.
They keep on doing the same connect the dots game and Shauna doesn’t get what is being analyzed here, her ability to make a straight line? It’s such a bore connecting 1 to 2 and so on. Her left hand hurt to write and she is surprisingly good with her right one? It weirds her out, but she keeps going with her right hand.
A guard knocks on the door and Shauna stops mid-line as he asks Dr. Wilson to go with him.
Shauna asks if she can stay doing the tests but Dr. Wilson isn’t nice at all, she takes away the paper and makes dull guy tie one of her hands.
She’s glad she’s been deemed lucid and educated enough not to hit them with both hands, but once she’s alone with the shadows she’s stricken with a sadness she doesn’t know where it comes from.
It makes her head throb and her chest tighten with a familiar ache.
Ingrid comes back to check on her and is nice enough to chatter with her, where Shauna learns she’s gone through several evaluations and whatever the fuck a CT scan is, something to see if her brain is damaged.
She starts talking about the hippocampus and Shauna’s mind blanks trying to connect what she learned in bio with what she says, but multitasking proves too hard when Ingrid stops talking and Shauna doesn’t hear a word she says.
Shauna decides to joke that they probably found worms for brain, but it doesn’t land. The nurse tries to change the topic to school subjects and it makes both of them light up.
It feels weird to talk so much, she’s breathless most of the time and some words have to be mechanically articulated to enunciate. It’s almost like Shauna is a robot who just began learning English.
She wonders if she stopped talking at some point out there. If all of them began to talk less because it hurt to move. Her muscles were screaming at her to stop while she answered one of Ingrid's questions.
She doesn’t answer anything related to her survival and Shauna learns to ask trivial shit. That’s how she learns Whitney Houston released a new album and the American president had been re-elected (what a surprise) in the year of their disappearance.
Maybe it is a little overboard for her to ask, but Flight 2525 became a stardom in Canada too, a lot of people investigated at the time but once winter came they gave up on the bunch of kids lost in the woods.
Ingrid speaks about her daughter of thirteen and how worried their disappearance made her feel for them. Every mother became afraid the same would happen to their kids.
Shauna’s eyes wells with tears, she can’t wait to give her mother the biggest hug and hear that everything will be alright.
She asks for another shower but Ingrid says something about her waiting for her meds to work and not wet her stitches today, making her lose one point in Shauna’s ‘pretend to care best’ game.
Although, Ingrid's still way ahead of the other three who came to talk to her. She tries remembering their names in her mind and Dr. Wilson comes second, the psychologist third, and coming up last is Dull Guy. She couldn’t care less about his name and the nickname fits him: he’s an asshole, he’s like any other man and he talks so dully Shauna has to fight staying awake to listen to his gibberish.
She had no idea how staying in the hospital would be a bore – no matter how obvious that fact is. But when her head rings and no one is coming to save her, it can also be fucking lonely.
She wonders how long the others had to suffer before being discharged. She really hopes her being conscious helps her leave as soon as possible.
It doesn’t help that once all the doctors have done their deeds, Shauna's only pastime is watching the spy-glass for any movement. Right now there isn’t any, maybe because it’s some ungodly hour and Shauna’s drifting in and out of sleep, not being able to dream, however much she begs her mind to.
Take me to her, she begs. Let me wake up in her bed with her body wrapped around mine. Let me hold her.
The ocean of her mind is cruel, though, daring those stupid dumb self-sabotaging thoughts surface and bring her a deep pain she knows is just her broken mind doing tricks on her.
Shauna is not sure when she fell asleep but Dull Guy shows up with a huge smile next to Taissa Turner – whose expressions are wary and nothing like the guy’s.
She sits up in her bed, stunned by the changes in her teammate’s face. Her face is way leaner, tenser and her hair is shorter than she remembers (but Shauna never had paid attention to it before), her eyes seem sharper, her brows furrowed, her mouth more rigid, like everything has to be the way Taissa wants it to be.
Her presence flares every functioning alarm in her head the absence of-
“Where is Jackie?” She asks before she can contain herself.
Taissa scoffs, but her face betrays her actions, the color drains from her face and she looks to Dull Guy, whose smile falters at the question.
He clears his throat in his weird mannerisms. “Ms Shipman, I’m glad you’re awake.” He motions for dull guy in black to untie her and once she’s free her gaze turns to Taissa, why is she narrowing her eyes on her? “I brought Ms. Turner to take you on a walk down the cafeteria and have a conversation with you, how does that sound?"
Back when they played soccer, she sometimes felt like she could talk with Tai telepathically, now she keeps glancing at her with her mind screaming ‘where’s Jackie?’ to the point Tai would finally listen and answer her.
Her chest is closing in, she doesn’t want to go with Taissa, she wants to go with Jackie.
Yet, she forces her mouth to open and say ‘ok’.
She struggles to stand up, her knees tremble, almost like enduring an earthquake, the food on her stomach suddenly nauseous.
Taissa comes to her side and supports her, looking at her with the same harshness, but maybe a sense of pity in her eyes.
Dull Guy in brown says something but she doesn’t hear it, too aware of Taissa’s grip on her as she guides them out on the hallway.
“tai…” She whispers, feeling her heartbeat screaming in her ears.
She shakes her head, “Let’s get you food, okay? We can talk there.”
Shauna listens. Each second in which strawberry blonde doesn’t appear behind Taissa to surprise her is a moment where Shauna wishes she would die.
The elevator takes hours to come, her head throbs trying to grasp for a memory, any proof that Tai is here to tell her Jackie is busy.
It’s awkward, and once they are downstairs, she doesn’t lean on her for support, knowing damn well her knees aren’t shaking because she can’t walk straight. At least not only for that.
Her eyes are too glossy for her to make out the details, she won’t cry until she is sure.
She is guided to a metal chair with Tai sitting next to her.
Shauna had hoped Taissa would answer her right away, but when she doesn’t it leaves her no option.
“Where is Jackie?”
Tai widens, she pales and fuck- She gulps and looks away, almost guilty... for what?
No. She begs Tai with her eyes.
“She’s not- here, Shauna.” She says and the way her voice breaks makes her gut wrench.
No, no, no.
The air knocks out from her lungs, it’s so tight in here she can’t breathe.
“Please, Tai.” When was the last time she spoke to her? They were both doing a lot of AP classes together, AP World History and Stats… besides, they were in varsity on Sophomore Year together, but she can’t think of a conversation they had that wasn’t class or soccer related.
What did Tai like besides school? Books? Fashion? She can’t remember who she hung out with. Maybe some nerds from the debate club? She tries placing the girl under a stereotype but none fit her. She has no gamble to make her talk.
Tai stares at her wide-eyed, and Shauna bites her tremble lips, refusing to let out the sob that desperately begs to be cried out.
“Where is she?” She repeats, hating how brittle her voice is, how on the verge of tears she is.
Tai softens her expressions and puts her hands on her shoulder, squeezing it with tears in her eyes. She opens and closes her mouth several times.
Tears pricke in her eyes, her chest carves a hole inside as she tries desperately to grasp onto any confirmation “Where’s she, please?”
Tai squeezes her eyes shut and it's the first time she is seeing this usually composed girl cry.
“You already know, Shauna.”
“No, I don’t.” She refuses to believe.
“She’s gone.”
It's like a gunshot straight to her heart.
Or worse, like a knife piercing and tearing her chest open.
She screeches in overbearing pain. She can’t deal with it. She won’t believe it.
After a day of ignoring her gut feeling she receives the confirmation she didn’t want to.
Jackie is gone.
“How long?”
Her guts spill, her heart soars out of her chest and Shauna can hit her head again and again from how much she wants this to be gone.
Tai shakes her head repeatedly.
Jackie is gone.
And her mind is fucking nuts so much she can’t remember four fucking years of her life.
“Please, Tai.” The arms around her tighten and she leans into her.
Fuck, she needed to know but this isn’t enough.
“You seriously don’t remember?” Tai says after God knows when, caressing her back and forth.
Hiccups pour out of her and she can’t hold herself from caving in.
She shakes her head.
Big hazel eyes were staring at her with adoration just yesterday. They should be shopping now, talking shit about boys, doing literally anything except this.
“How?” She repeats.
“It doesn’t matter.” Tai says against her shoulder and it only makes her cry harder.
“Of course it does-” Her yells are muffled by Tai’s shoulder and it hurts.
“We can talk about that later.” She whispers.
She doesn’t understand the reason behind Tai’s words when it's such a simple plea for her to make.
Jackie in pain, her beautiful eyes losing its spark. Shauna can’t picture it. She wouldn’t picture it.
“why were we in that plane in the first place?” She whispers, gripping tighter and tighter.
Tai laughs and it is nice.
She pulls away with tears in her eyes and a sad smile. “We were going to Nationals, Shauna.”
The bittersweet feeling sours the ache in her crusty bread, crackers and water filled stomach. She lets out an uncontrollable sob, Jackie-filled memories swarming her brain.
Late night conversations about their futures, driving Jackie around with the promise she’d get her license the day she turned sixteen, sitting in silence in her bedroom when the world stopped spinning just for them to exist.
They had a fucking life ahead of them, and Shauna can’t even remember the past four years of their friendship.
If they were going to Nationals, then they spent two years playing soccer together and winning. Being actually good at it and not being the suck ass team they were yesterday. God, being on varsity was already the highlight of her soccer career, going to Nationals was unimaginable.
She wonders how she reacted but cannot picture it. Why does it hurt so much to try and remember deeply what they went through?
Why couldn’t it be her?
She loved Jackie, but did Jackie die knowing she did? Were they better than how they were lately? Did they get over the ‘it’s a red dress/maroon dress’ argument? Was Jackie the one to finally cave in to her opinions?
Did she confess her lies? Did Jackie die knowing she broke her glitter gel pen in sixth grade because she was envious? Or did she confess to the time she said her mom didn’t let her visit her because she was so goddamn tired of hearing about her stupid boyfriend?
Worst of all, had Jackie known in the end, how she wasn’t as joyful about Rutgers as she was?
Did she finally tell her how deeply she loved her? Or of how often her thoughts drifted to the first time in Jackie's room when they were freshmen?
The tears give out on her sore body, and the headache comes not only from the injury, but from the turmoil boiling inside her.
Jackie is-was an intrinsic part of her life, she can barely tell them apart.
Who is she supposed to be now?
“I’m sorry, Shauna.” Tai comforts her and she briefly wonders if this was how it happened the first time around. She wouldn’t imagine Tai hugging her for any reason that wasn’t a goal until three minutes ago, much less the death of her best friend.
She doesn’t know how long they spend at this stupid too bright and empty cafeteria.
It’s so dull, so gray and blurry when all her thoughts are,
Jackie is gone. Jackie is gone. Jackie is gone. Jackie is gone. Jackie. Gone. Jackie. Gone. Jackie. Gone.
Her head winces and she’s gasping for air, Jackie is gone, so should her.
Please take me with you.
I can’t live without you, she cries.
Her best friend is dead and she left her.
Don’t leave me.
Please.
She doesn’t know how, or when, but she’s back on her bed and the room is too bright for her to open her eyes.
It was all just a dream, she thinks with her heart squeezing tight in her chest.
Her eyes hurt and she barely manages to open them before her vision blurs again.
She sees Taissa sitting on the couch and it wasn't a dream.
Jackie is gone.
The pain in her head, in her chest, in her heart; is so much easier to handle than the one in her mind.
She deserves her head to be gnawing at her, to have the sickest migraines if it will stop her from thinking.
She’ll gladly take any medicine for her thoughts and endure the pain if it can help her.
The fucking beeping machine proving she’s alive and her heartbeat’s palpitation won’t shut the fuck up.
She shakes her hands and they are fucking tied again.
How can they do this to her? How can they restrain her again like she’s an animal when her half just died?
She cries out, a shrill sound coming out of her that she can’t stop. It pierces her ears but she can’t stop.
Someone grabs her hand and squeezes it until her screams dilute to hiccups, until she can open her eyes through the stabbing pain to see Taissa still there, still holding her.
“It’s okay, let it all out.”
It’s not the first time she’s soothing her and it’s excruciating to realize that.
Her body is on fire, she wants nothing more than to crawl out of her skin. To forget it again. To become someone else.
“Let me go, please.” She begs, looking at Tai’s just as shiny eyes. “I can’t breathe.”
She hugs her and it’s not warm anymore, it’s painful.
They stay like that for hours.
She chants ‘Jackie is gone’ in her head over a thousand times, until the words lose meaning.
She whispers it like a prayer that needs to be fixed in what’s left of her brain rot.
The tears stop and her throat is too hoarse for her sobs to make noise, but the pain remains.
Doctor Wilson comes to check on her, a frown evident on her face when she sees the locked up mess. She acknowledges Tai, who has to be extricated from her hand’s hold.
She hadn’t noticed how she was grasping to her for dear life, but her hands hurt now too.
“Ms. Shipman, I’m aware you’ve learned jarring facts recently, how are you feeling?”
Shauna swears she could choke her to death if she wanted.
She feels like a piece has been ripped from her. Actually, an entire chunk of Shauna was removed when Tai confirmed her worst fears. She’s pretty sure her heart was surgically removed while she was out, she feels nothing but pain.
The woman in a lab coat clears her throat and asks again.
Can’t she tell she’s talking to a walking corpse?
She stares deep into those green eyes hidden behind glasses. They look nothing like her best friend’s. She wants to leave.
She asks her again and Shauna glares. Why does it matter if she’s in pain or not?
Tai takes her hand to give a light squeeze and looks at her with a warning look Shauna can’t decipher.
“Give her some time, doc.” She says and the doctor leaves them again.
Shauna wants to scream.
She knows time won’t be enough to make her better.
Nothing will ever be enough.
She and Jackie will always be each other’s lifeline.