Writing for Fun
February 2018
Clara - Gerry Miller
She came round slowly; her eyes flickered she quickly clenched them shut. Whatever was out there it was glowing with winter sunshine. The restrictions around her body felt almost as restraints but with some flexibility and then as awareness increased she realised that they were bandages to protect whatever injuries she had. As her stomach churned she told herself not to panic all would become clear, she was slow in her thoughts but her brain was working. Like a wounded animal she sunk deeper into the bed and in the foetal position she sank back into unconsciousness again.
The next time her consciousness paid a repeat visit she started to focus on her hearing and what she could identify. Hospital equipment seemed to be beeping regularly and in the background someone was quietly snoring with soft gentle breathing. Her body was suddenly alert as goose bumps travelled up and down her spine. Left, right or central she questioned trying coolly to identify the position of the mysterious snorer. They were to her left, gender unknown, and kept in shadow by what she realised now was the setting sun streaming in the window.
She shuddered in the bed, the snoring had stopped and she heard the sleeping person cough and then movement. Fear ran through her body and she urinated in the nappy she felt around her. Frozen stiff she smelt Old Spice and then felt the warmth of breathing on her face. Her blood felt as though it was curdling but the patient remained motionless. A door opened and a soft gentle voice said to the visitor, ‘Hi there, how is our patient today?’
The deep resonance of a male voice responded, ‘I thought there was some movement but all I can smell is urine.’
The nurse was brusque in her reply, ‘Time for you to leave, I need to give our patient a bed bath, change dressings and sort out her drips.’
The nurse smelled of lily of the valley and her hands were soft, warm and so gentle. As she worked the nurse talked to her tenderly, ‘I know that you can hear me and that you will be coming back to us, Clara. So that was her name ‘Clara’ she thought to herself. ‘Yes, I’m Clara Ryan, now what on earth am I doing here?’ And with her body racked with so much pain. She questioned herself but the fog of confusion could not be penetrated.
The nurse was chattering on light heartedly, apparently her burns were healing well and so were her broken bones. ‘How you survived is a miracle!’ The nurse muttered. With the minimum of discomfort and what seemed the blink of an eye Clara had been bed bathed, bandages changed and was comfortable again. The nurse bent over kissing her forehead and was gone in a flash.
Now knowing her name gave Clara some comfort, she had actually remembered her surname but so many other questions needed answers. She rested calmly and with her eyes closed, her watcher had not returned and she assumed he had left for the day. Her arms and hands were now free of restrictions and she felt her nails realising they were broken and chipped and somehow she knew she would not have kept them like that. At least three weeks growth she thought, she feigned unconsciousness as the door opened. A visitor came and stood by her bedside a man held her hand squeezing it tighter and tighter. Clara fought hard to still every sinew in her body as the squeeze went on and on.
She sensed his movement closer to her face, ‘Don’t fret wifey dear, I’ll be looking after you when you come home.’ Turning he left the room. Suddenly with terror in heart her memories flooded back and remembering what indeed happened last summer, her screaming began.
P.S. Mr. Ryan was arrested upon his return to the hospital the following day and charged with attempted murder of his wife Clara and was remanded in custody pending trial. Clara made a full recovery and was fit to give evidence at her husband’s trial.