Aisling was jerked out of her t rance as a nurse sideswiped her on t he shoul der and walked away as fast
as t he encount er had happened. She must have been
in a hurry, wit h bot h arms bur dened by medicat ion
and bandages, probably t o assist anot her pat ient . In
her daze, Aisling had passed out. She found her self in
a sea of white robes and a cacoph onious mix ture of
cries, screams, and de mands, t he ma chines surrounding her bleeping and whirring.
Aisling had been wan der ing off in her wheel chair
again. She was t rav el ing, but only wit h her mind.
She stood out amongst the chaos, al ready for got ten.
Her missing left leg was not recog nizable enough,
she t hought t o herself.
She remembered having been wheeled int o t he hospi t al her self, a mont h and a half ago, wit h high
blood loss and a slim chance of pulling t hrough.
She had t o un dergo six surg eries in t he first t wo
weeks, but t he in fec t ion had been per va sive. She
st ood no chance. She had been in t he woods for t oo
long.
?I f t hey had rolled me in dead,? Aisling t hought . ?I
would not be suffering so much right now.?
--She found her self in t he woods again, head facing
up t o t he grey sky. Adren aline pulsed in her veins
and her heart pounded. She was in full sur vival
mode. She felt herself bleeding. But she was alive.
The bear must have t hought she was dead and abandoned her, left her t o bleed out wit h bro ken legs
and mul t i ple slashes across her face. She t ook one
look at her legs and could only muffle a gasp.
She man aged t o find her back pack, con t rolled t he
bleed ing wit h makeshift rags, and wait ed desperat ely for what seemed like half a day, for help.
She had be en so scared.
And when she woke up, she was screaming.
--?You can?t al ways depend on t he wheel chair, you
know.?
He had brought her flowers, a bundle of chrysant hemums t hat var ied in color and paint ed her dull
walls a bright rip ple of hues. They were t he only
flowers t hat had grazed her room. Aisling had had
few friends, and none of t hem had bot hered t o visit
in t he t wo mont hs since she had been here.
"Yes I can, Cole."
Cole was, t hen, her only con nec t ion wit h t he out side world. A scrawny but act ive fig ure, he would
read her t he news, bring her food t hat was not from
t he hospi t al, and fill her t edious whit e walls wit h
colors from t he cit y. His brows fur rowed upon cat ching sight of t he prost het ic discarded on t he chest of
drawers.
?I didn?t save you from dy ing in t he for est so t hat
you can die in here, Aisling.?
Aisling stared at the chrysanthemums to avoid having
to look into Cole?s piercing blue eyes, which brooked
no argument. She was embarrassed.
?L et me help you int o your chair, Ais ling.? Cole
sighed, break ing t he si lence. ?We?re going out side
t o t he garden.?
Cole st ood loom ing over Aisling, look ing as ominous as t he grey sky above t hem, and Aisling knew
he was going t o say somet hing t hat would hurt her.
In all his visits, Cole?s encouragements in her physical
t her apy sessions, all t he st ret ching and posi t ioning
t o prepare for prost hesis, had been reassur ing, and
Aisling had come t o know him as t hat t ype of person.
"Not t o day." A phrase she had made so of t en
rephrased it self.
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