Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes, wincing as a throbbing headache greeted her. She lay still, trying to recall the events of the previous night. Fragments of memories flashed through her mind – the bar, the stranger, the kiss... but everything after that was a blur.
As she sat up, a wave of nausea washed over her, and she gasped. Her gaze fell upon the unfamiliar room, and her heart sank. Where was she? And, more pressing, what had happened last night?
Elizabeth's eyes scanned the room, taking in the elegant furniture and the city skyline outside the window. A man's shirt draped loosely over her body, and she felt a flush rise to her cheeks. What had she done?
Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Think, Elizabeth, think.
She vaguely remembered going to the bar, feeling frustrated and alone... and then the stranger. His kind eyes, his gentle smile, His lips .....
Subconsciously she noticed a bag on the table opening it to view the content, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Whoever this stranger was, he had been kind to her, giving her clothes and toiletries and the content of her bag was still intact.
Elizabeth decided to take a shower, the warm water soothing her sore muscles. As she dressed in the fresh clothes, she felt a sense of gratitude toward this mysterious stranger though she hqrdly remembered what had transpired last night.
She checked her phone for the time and groaned. She was already running late.
She remembered what made her go to the bar in the first place. Dejected, she walked slowly, as she made her way down the stairs and out of the hotel knowing she couldn't go to work today, Elizabeth couldn't shake off the feeling of unease.
What had happened last night? And what would today bring?
Lost in thought, she walked along the sidewalk, oblivious to her surroundings. The sounds of the city – car horns, chatter, and sirens – created a familiar background hum. Elizabeth felt a sense of comfort in the anonymity of the crowd.
But as she turned a corner, her thoughts were interrupted by the screech of tires and the sound of rushing footsteps. Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat as she turned to see a truck speeding toward her.
Time seemed to slow as Elizabeth tried to react, but it was too late. The truck struck her with a sickening crunch, sending her flying onto the pavement. She landed hard, her world spinning.
The truck didn't stop, speeding away from the scene with a chilling screech of tires. Elizabeth lay there, dazed and disoriented, as the reality of the hit-and-run sunk in.
As she lay there, dazed and bleeding, Elizabeth vaguely heard the sounds of people shouting, tires screeching, and sirens wailing in the distance. The last thing she remembered was the feeling of warm blood seeping from her wounds, mingling with the cool pavement beneath her.
Everything went dark as she crumpled to the ground. The sounds of the city grew faint, replaced by the murmur of concerned voices. Someone in the crowd rushed to her aid, calling 911 as they cradled her head in their lap.
The next thing Elizabeth knew, she was in a hospital bed, surrounded by beeping machines and sterile white walls. A gentle voice spoke to her, but the words were indistinct.
She tried to respond, but her voice was hoarse and barely audible before everything finally became silent.
Elizabeth lay on the hospital gurney, her body aching and her mind foggy. The kind stranger who had brought her to the hospital stood beside her, his eyes filled with concern. But the doctors remained unmoved, their faces impassive.
"We need to treat her immediately," the stranger urged, his voice firm but polite. "She's bleeding."
The doctors exchanged a glance, their expressions unyielding. "We can't start treatment without a partial payment," one of them said, his tone detached. "It's hospital policy."
The stranger's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. "Can't you see she's bleeding? Every minute counts."
But the doctors refused to budge, their faces set in stone. The stranger's frustration was palpable, but he remained calm, his eyes locked on the doctors staring coldly at their inhumane expressions.
Finally, he turned and walked to the front desk, his movements purposeful. Elizabeth watched him, her vision blurry, as he spoke to the receptionist. After a brief conversation, he pulled out his wallet and handed over his credit card.
A few minutes later, the stranger returned, his face set in determination. "They're going to start treatment now," he told Elizabeth, his voice soft.
The doctors, now suddenly attentive, began to prep Elizabeth for treatment. The stranger watched over her, his eyes never leaving hers, as the medical team worked to save her life.
After doing scans the doctor noticed that she had internal bleeding which led to hematoma expansion and an operation would have to be done to remove the accumulated fluids but due to the complexity of the operation, a senior doctor who was a neurosurgeon was asked to help.
*********
The hospital room was dimly lit, the only sound the steady beep of the machines surrounding Elizabeth. Dr. Thompson's voice was low and serious as he explained the situation to the stranger who had brought her in.
"Her scans show internal bleeding, which has led to hematoma expansion," he said, his eyes somber. "We need to operate to relieve the pressure and remove the accumulated fluids in her brain."
The stranger's face was set in a determined expression, his eyes locked on the doctor. "Do whatever it takes," he said.
Hours ticked by at a glacial pace. The stranger paced the hospital room, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth's still form. Finally, the door swung open and Dr. Thompson entered, a hint of exhaustion etched on his face.
"It's done," he said, his voice soft. "The operation was a success. We've relieved the pressure and removed the accumulated fluids."
The stranger's face relaxed, a faint smile on his lips. "Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Dr. Thompson nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "She's not out of the woods yet, but she's on the road to recovery".
" Can I go check on her?" The stranger inquired.
Dr Thompson agreed requesting that he should be prepped by the nurses first before entering the ward.
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