I Forgot // Olli M??tt?

"What's wrong?" I ask. "'Worse than you thought', what does that mean?"

"How old you think you were when you go to Florida?" A pause.

"17...I think. Do you know?" 

"17 is-is right," he mumbles, shaking his head. I finally get a glimpse of the rest of the room as he steps away. I'm in some sort of hospital bed, and everything is white, including the doctors uniforms. Olli stands out, however, wearing a black jacket with a little penguin in the upper corner. 

"What's wrong with that though? I'm still 17, I--"

"You are 20!" He interjects, his lips pursed in an effort to keep his cool. I can see the fear in his eyes as he paces around. "You forgot 3 years of your life--three whole years. This is very bad, very bad--what I tell my mother, and your mother? That you not know me?"

"I'm sorry," I whisper, but Olli shakes his head, taking it all back. 

"No no no, I am sorry, it not your fault--it's mine, I did not pay full attention to you. Do not be sorry, I will figure out something."

"Just tell her the truth," I whisper, and he suddenly hugs me tightly. "Ouch." I push him away, uncomfortable at the thought of a stranger hugging me. 

"I-I--" he stammers, and when the doctor murmurs something in his ear he nods. Olli gives me one last look of remorse before exiting the room. 

I look around at all the strange faces, talking in a different language to themselves for a few minutes until another person comes in. "I will translate for them," she says with a smile. I just stare at her, nervous. "What do you remember last?" She asks after a doctor tells her something. "How old were you, and where?"

I repeat the same thing I told Olli. "What hurts?" I laugh, the smile soon turning to a wince of pain. 

"Everywhere," I mumble. 

"Is there anywhere specific?"

"Yeah...a lot here, here, here, and here." I point to my knees, side, head, and shoulder. I'm still a bit wary about having people treat me who don't even speak my language. It's rather nerve-racking to know that neither of you understands one word of the other.

***

"How much longer will I be here?" I nervously ask the translator, who in turn asks the doctor. 

"Less than two weeks, while we diagnose exactly what damage has been done to your body and mind," she says. "You will be released and sent back to the United States to recover when that has been determined." I nod and bite my lip. 

"When did I get here?" 

"You were in a coma for three weeks, and in a deep sleep for another week," the translator tells me. "Your first awakening was yesterday." She pauses as the doctor says something else. "We will take off the casts on your legs a few days before you travel back home." I look under the blankets, seeing two thick white blobs instead of legs. My eyes widen at the sight of them, but the harsh stinging pain of my shoulder causes me to squeak. In incredible amounts of pain, I barely choke out, 

"The s-sooner the-the better...agh..."