Bastard

Such a sweet girl, but boy, could she pack a punch. 

My head rocked and my skin burnt as she hit me again and again.

‘Don’t you DO this to me, you bastard!’ she screamed hysterically.

I didn’t want to do it to her, but I was helpless and remote, unconnected, floating somewhere in a corner of the room, a spectator.

Watching through closed eyes, I saw them drag her off me and out of the room, still screaming, still trying to strike me.

Then a nurse appeared. I saw her look at me, shake her head and turn away. She began removing tubes, cables and switching off machines.

Pain lanced through my chest as I coughed and drew breath. Turning in shock the nurse dropped her tray and above the harsh metallic clatter of spilt medical instruments, I heard her cry:

‘Doctor! Doctor! He’s alive!’