Unheeded

The last words he remembered echoed over and over in his head.

By some inexplicable means he was familiar with them, but was unable to recall them. They were muffled. Maybe they were spoken immediately before what had happened to him. What had happened to him? Try as hard as he could, he had no memory of it. He only knew that he was laying, perfectly still, with his eyes closed. Could he move? He wasn’t sure. Did he want to try? There was a burning pain in his head. He moved his arm and felt the pain at the back of his head burn even more with an unbelievable intensity. He relaxed his arm and waited for the agony to subside.

He could hear voices; distant mutterings. With effort, he willed his eyes to open. He shut them immediately, squinting. The brightness of it, searing into his head, restarted the pain shooting through his skull. The voices grew louder and a rustling of something. Whatever covered him was being moved. Loud voices now. Very close.

“When was he admitted?”

“Let me see… ten-thirty this morning. We’re still waiting for x-rays.”

“I’ll be back this afternoon. I’ll look in on him then.”

“Thank you doctor.”

He heard them, but they made no sense. He drifted off into sleep.

Sometime later he woke and found there was less pain when he opened his eyes. He knew some time had passed because the glare of the lights had been replace by a dim glow. Despite the discomfort he slowly turned his head to see black through the gap in the blind. He peered around at the hospital ward’s surroundings. He managed to ease his arm out of the sheet and feel his head, with less discomfort than he felt earlier. He felt bandages. What had he done? Had he taken a fall or was he hit by something? It was so frustrating that he couldn’t remember. He realised that sooner or later a nurse was bound to come by, and he could ask.

However, within a few minutes of him lying awake, the need for this to happen became unnecessary. The whole thing gradually began to unfold. It all became clear as he remembered the last words spoken.

Those last words that now echoed over and over in his head.

His mum: “Please where your helmet.”

Him: “Mum! I don’t need one.”

14 thoughts on “Unheeded”

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