Just The Way I Am - Jo Watson Page 0,2

up as the elevator moved, a sense of impending doom growing inside me as the numbers came closer and closer. I heard a familiar voice and turned. It was Noah. He looked relaxed, leaning against a wall with his phone pressed to his ear. I squinted against the bright light coming from the long railway track of fluorescent bulbs running the length of the corridor.

“Sorry, I was meant to be off today, but I’m not now. You can deliver it tomorrow, if that’s okay?” Noah said into his phone. “Yes. Noah Robinson. 19C Edward Drive, Parkmeadows.”

Ding! The elevator doors opened and something inside me just snapped. “No! No!” I shouted as I stared into the terrifying empty space behind the open doors.

Ntethelelo put her hands on the side of my face. “You mustn’t move your head, darling.” She brought her face right up to mine, looking me directly in the eye.

“NO! I can’t . . . You mustn’t . . . STOOOOP!” I was shocked at the sounds coming out of my mouth; guttural and desperate-sounding. They cut through the air like a sword and made everything around me feel like it was shaking.

“Doctor!” Ntethelelo called out, and soon, someone else was there. And then someone else. Flashes of white coats and arms and a sharp, shiny needle catching the light and then a pain in my arm, a sting, a burn and then . . .

“Hi, it’s me, do you remember?” A gentle hand, a friendly voice and those blue eyes.

“Noah!” I whispered, feeling like warm water was flowing through my veins.

“That’s right. You must try and keep still, remember?”

Our eyes locked, the blueness drawing me in like calm waters.

“Deep breaths.” He inhaled deeply and I copied him.

“Great!” Ntethelelo spoke this time.

“Great,” I echoed, my voice sounding more and more like liquid as I talked. “The animals went in two by two by two . . .”

I think I heard a chuckle before it all went dark again.

CHAPTER 3

I opened my eyes. My head felt like it was at least ten times bigger than it usually was, and it hurt! The world in front of me was fuzzy and I blinked a few times, trying to bring all the shapes into focus. The air was filled with a smell that hit me in the back of the throat and made me gag. Chemicals, disinfectants and . . .

I sat up as fast as I could. I was in a hospital room! I heaved, but nothing came out. The room started spinning and I gripped the sides of the bed to steady myself.

“Take it easy. You’ve just come out of sedation, it’s normal to feel nauseous, I’ll give you something for that,” a woman’s voice said. She was just a brown-and-white blur at this point, but when she came closer my eyes adjusted a little.

I lowered myself back onto the bed.

“I’m Dr. Kgomotso Maluka. Do you know where you are?” she asked.

I nodded. God, my head hurt. “In hospital.”

“Good.” She looked pleased with my answer and opened the file that she was holding. “Do you know your name yet?”

“It’s um, I think it’s Jane Doe.”

“Jane Doe is what we call someone when we don’t know their name,” she said kindly.

I looked around the room. “Didn’t I come in with anything? A bag or something?”

She turned and indicated the chair in the corner. “Just the clothes you were wearing, a watch and a keyring.”

“Was I unconscious?” My throat felt dry as I spoke, and I reached up and touched it.

“You were sedated for some procedures we needed to carry out. Normally, we wouldn’t sedate a patient, but you were very panicked.” She passed me a cup of water. “Small sip.” She gently pushed it towards my lips. The cool water slipped down my throat and the relief was instant.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

“So, what about your name?”

I closed my eyes tightly. If my name was not Jane, then what was it? I tried to think of names I knew. Noah, Ntethelelo, Kgomotso, Jane, Bennett, Cyril. Those were the only names that existed inside my head.

“No, I don’t know. I don’t! No!” The words shot up my sore throat and tumbled out of my cracked lips.

“That’s okay.” She wrote something down in her file and the sound of the pencil against the paper grated against my already shattered nerves, making them feel like they were on fire.

“What are you writing?”

“Just taking some general medical notes.” Her tone was casual and placating, and then she