Displacement -- (Author) Emu

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Author: Emu
Timestamp: Jun 20, 2021 at 3:32 AM
Content: Prologue:

This will be my first attempt at writing anything creative since I was in school 17+ years ago. I've only ever written a few poems when I was younger, so keep that in mind while you read this. I've been wanting to write something like this for a year or so, and I'm still working out a lot of the details, so it will probably be slow at least in the beginning. The title is tentative, still deciding on that. I'm not going to tag anything yet, as a lot of it will be revealed in the natural development of the story, and I don't want to give too much away. All characters are fictitious, and any resemblance to anyone real, living or dead, is completely coincidental. Thanks for taking time out of your lives to give this a try.

Chapter 1

"Orphan? Thomas Orphan?"

Tom stood and followed the receptionist though the long corridor and into his therapist's private office, taking a seat in one of the lounge chairs. As the door was closed behind him, white noise filled his ears, reassuring him their conversation would be private. Across the large mahogany desk, Doctor Beatrice Thoroughgood finished writing something in her notepad and looked up to greet him.

"Tom, so good to see you again" she said in a pleasant and disarming tone. "How have you been since last month?"

"Ok, I guess" Tom muttered, hesitant to continue. Therapy always seemed like a good idea to him when he made these appointments. In his daydreams he had spilled his soul out, articulating all the delicate intricacies of his innermost thoughts and feelings as easily as he drew breath. But in the harsh light of reality, where he had no control over anything outside of himself, the courage eluded him.

"Just ok?" prodded his therapist. She glanced down at the questionnaire Tom had filled out when he first came to the office three months ago. Most of his responses were unremarkable and mundane. She was able to gather a lot more data from what wasn't on the form. No significant relationships, domestic or otherwise. No listed hobbies or interests. He didn't even have an emergency contact. This was not completely unheard of for an orphan, but she sensed he had become so accustomed to emotional withdrawal that he didn't even realize he was doing it anymore.

"How about work? Any significant changes since last time?" She asked.

"Work is fine, my job doesn't really change much day to day" Tom stated. "I'm just another small cog in the large corporate machine."

"And outside of work? Anything else going on that you would like to talk about?" she inquired.

"Not really, just more of the same" he replied.

"In that case, let's talk about your childhood" said Dr. Thoroughgood. She watched his shoulders clench, as his gaze left her own and ventured downward to the floor. For the next twenty five minutes, Dr. Thoroughgood cautiously attempted to break through the walls her patient had erected to protect himself. While she didn't succeed in extracting any pertinent details, she was able to coax him a little further out of his shell. The process would take time, but eventually she hoped to build the trust necessary to truly help him. It was obvious he had unresolved trauma in his life, and if he was ever going to move forward, it had to be dealt with.

.....

Tom slowly awoke to the familiar sound of his alarm clock filling the bedroom. His body begrudgingly moved toward the nagging electronic device and applied more force than necessary to the button designed to silence it. He prepared himself for another day of monotony, thoughtlessly going through the required motions. So much of his life was spent in autopilot, repeating the same maneuvers day after day, only the minute details would change. This day would be no different, and as let himself back into his apartment after work, his mind wandered back to the appointment with his therapist.

Why was it so hard for him to talk to anyone? For as long as he could remember, he had always felt out of place, like he didn't belong to this world. The overwhelming sense of misplacement normally led him to avoid social interaction whenever possible.

When he had first moved out on his own, it was great. The small dorm room he'd shared at university was a drastic improvement from the barracks that had housed him as a child, but he never truly had any privacy until he moved into the one bedroom apartment he now called home. Although happier at first, the endless supply of alone time he had so desperately craved growing up had become his prison. He was utterly alone, and without the forced social interactions of his youth, he found himself completely unable to form relationships of any kind.

He had reached a similar point of contemplation three months ago, when he first reached out to a therapist. Again, he felt his frustration building. He was growing more impatient with himself by the minute, something had to change.

Looking over at the clock, he realized it was now past midnight. Normally he would be heading to bed, but he was far too wound up to sleep now. He found himself locking the front door and climbing behind the wheel of his car. Heading away from the lights of the city, he guided the vehicle towards less occupied spaces, hoping to drown out the dullness of his life with a winding mountain road.

To be continued......

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Author: Emu
Timestamp: Jun 20, 2021 at 5:49 AM
Content: Chapter 2

Chet Sommerston raced along the mountain road, pulling hard out of a sharp curve. "This car is almost too good to be true," he thought to himself. "I just wish I knew what kind of engine she has inside of her, I would absolutely love to put one into my own car."

The sleek prototype whisked along silently, with nothing but the delicate whirring of tires meeting asphalt to give it away. Normally, the touring car driver would be hesitant to test an unproven vehicle on a public road at night, but the company had insisted. It was TOP SECRET.

The application process had been a doozy, akin to applying to the CIA, he imagined. He had agreed to complete electronic monitoring for months before and after the car made it to market. During the testing, he was only allowed out of the compound during these brief road tests. He would spend the next three years there, sequestered from all public interaction that didn't take place on his company provided devices. His communications also seemed to be buffered, as if someone or something was approving them before sending and receiving.

Annoying as the whole process was, the payoff would be seven figures. Although Chet loved to race, it was clearly becoming a younger person's sport, and he doubted he would ever again reach the pole positions he held in his youth.

One last gig, he told himself, and then he would be able to retire in comfort. All he had to do was keep his head down, drive the car the way they asked him to, and NEVER look under the hood. That was made clear to him several times, he was not under any circumstances to open the hood of the car. Not only would his payday be forfeit, he had reason to believe his life might be in jeopardy as well.

Even without getting a look at the engine, Chet knew the car was electric. There was no exhaust, no engine noise, and almost unlimited torque right off the line. What he couldn't wrap his head around was how light the car was. Electric cars were normally full of batteries, and batteries were heavy. This car was light and responsive, it had to weigh less than half of what any normal electric car would. Not only that, but the "charge indicator" never dropped below full, even after he had driven it over a hundred miles.

As he pulled out of another curve, Chet did his best to ignore the impossible feats being performed by the finely tuned machine he was strapped into. The last thing he wanted to do was upset his employer. Just then, a voice crackled over his headset. "Looking good Chet, how is she handling?"

"Like a dream," Chet replied.

"Well, everything else looks good from our end, but the temperature is reading a bit higher than we're used to. It's probably nothing, but why don't you turn around and head back for the city?" said the voice.

"Roger, heading back" Chet radioed, as he whipped the vehicle around and began the trip back toward the compound. He glanced down at the temperature gauge, and noticed it was sitting at about 5/8 of the span. Obviously, straight up and down was optimal, but it was nowhere near the red. A few minutes later, and the gauge moved into the 6/8 spot. As the temperature was now getting close to the red, he radioed back to the compound for advice.

"Yes, we see that. You're only ten miles from the city limits Chet, go easy on her and you should make it back just fine. It's half past midnight anyway, almost no one is out on those roads with you" came the reply.

Chet did his best to ease the car through the tight curves of the mountain road, but it seemed the less he pushed the engine, the higher the gauge went. He was now within the red mark, and his headset again crackled to life.

"Doing good Chet, you're almost back. Just a couple more miles to go. We're gonna have you pull straight into the maint........."

As his radio cut out, Chet heard a strange hum coming from under the hood. Just as he began turning into the last curve, a bright flash pulsed out of the engine compartment, blinding him. As he lost control of the vehicle, he felt the front of the car slam into something hard. Then there was nothing.

........

"Chet?!........Chet, respond!" Frank cried into the microphone. Clearly panicked, he covered his mic and shouted up to the control room. "I've lost contact with the driver!"

"It's not just the driver," came the reply. We've completely lost all telemetry."

"How is that possible?" questioned Frank.

"Unknown, but we're sending a team to the last GPS location we received. Just hang tight Frank, we'll get him back."

To be continued......

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Author: Emu
Timestamp: Jun 21, 2021 at 2:22 PM
Content:

Chess said:

Nice writing for a first story. The start catches your attention, and now I want to find out what the story really is about.

[End of quote]

Thanks! I'm really enjoying writing it, can't wait to get to some of the stuff I have planned

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Author: Emu
Timestamp: Jun 21, 2021 at 4:59 PM
Content: Chapter 3

"Hello?" answered a groggy voice.

"Ma'am? We have an emergency" stated the voice on the phone. "There's been an accident involving the prototype."

Lorraine Havnenwich bolted upright, every muscle in her body tensing. "I'm on the way" she curtly replied, as she climbed out of bed. Throwing on the clothes she had laid out for herself mere hours ago, the executive's mind raced with the various scenarios the company had prepared for such an eventuality. Her driver was waiting for her when she arrived downstairs. The trip across the sprawling campus was less than a mile, but appearances had to be maintained, especially now.

.....

"Bring me up to speed" ordered Lorraine as she entered the meeting room. The CEO carried her 5'9" slender frame across the room with the poise and determination of a seasoned warrior. The authority in her voice and body language left little doubt as to who was in charge. As she took her place at the head of the table, her gaze settled on the head of R&D, Glen Tawbinger, who stood to address the room.

"At approximately 12:05am, we initiated the third test run of our prototype vehicle powered by our exotic metal core induction engine. Much like the initial two tests, the vehicle was accelerated to 18.4 miles per hour under battery power, until the rotation of the exotic core metals synchronized to the oscillations of cosmic microwave background radiation. At this point, the induction engine began producing enough energy to both power the vehicle and recharge the batteries."

"So all your readings up to this point were in line with the previous two attempts, correct?" inquired Lorraine.

"Yes ma'am, within a 0.4% deviation" answered Glen.

"For how long did your measurements remain stable?" asked Lorraine.

"For the next seventeen minutes, all of our readings were within their expected ranges" continued Glen. "Our test driver was directed to take the CR-414 mountain pass as planned. He had driven 13.5 miles of the planned 18.2 mile excursion when we noticed the engine temperature beginning to rise. At that point, the call was made to abort the test and return."

"The engine temperature continued rising steadily as the driver attempted to return to the compound. The last telemetry we received was gps tagged at mile marker 0.3 of CR-414, at which point we lost all contact with the driver and vehicle. Based on the available data, our analysts believe there was likely an energy build-up in the exotic metal core that was incompatible with our induction matrix. This energy continued to build until the core could no longer sustain it, at which point it breached the containment vessel and was released."

Silence filled the room. All eyes moved to the head of the conference table, waiting for their leader to speak. After a brief pause, and in an uncharacteristically soft voice, Lorraine asked "What is the condition of the test driver?"

"Presumed dead. Most of the debris, along with any human remains, appear to have been vaporized instantly." Glen paused, hesitant to continue. "I'm afraid there's more, ma'am. Our recovery team found evidence of a second vehicle at the accident site. They recovered part of a rear license plate that doesn't match any of our own vehicles. We were unable to investigate further, as local emergency responders were already being dispatched."

Lorraine processed the shock of what she had just been told. It was far worse than she had imagined, but outwardly she maintained her composure. "Glen, I want you to get three separate teams of analysts together, but do not include anyone who has worked on this project before" she declared. "Give each team all of the data we have on the prototype, as well as all of the readings we have taken thus far. Have each team prepare a report detailing what they believe happened here tonight, but do not let any of them interact whatsoever with the other two teams. Each team is to believe they are the only ones working on this."

"Of course, right away" responded Glen.

"George," continued Lorraine, "I want you to use your contact with the local police to find out everything they have on the accident. Once they've left the scene, get our people back there searching for anything they might have missed. Also, get Brenda from IT the partial plate we found. She should be able to cross reference the DMV database with our local camera feeds and figure out who could have been out there tonight. If anyone else was involved, I need to know immediately."

To be continued......

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Author: Emu
Timestamp: Jun 22, 2021 at 5:54 PM
Content: Chapter 4

Buzzing was the first thing Tom noticed. It was subtle, impossibly far away, yet it was his entire world. No thoughts, no feelings, only the gentle hum of existence. It felt as if it had been going on forever, yet the second he became aware of it, it disappeared. It was quickly replaced by other sounds, as if someone was turning up the volume on a TV set. The rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor. The sound of a gurney passing by in the hall. As Tom was slowly pulled into the present, he subconsciously began to get up.

A sharp cry of agony suddenly pierced the room. Tom instantly recognized the voice was his own, as a sharp jolt of pain ravaged his leg from the ankle all the way up into his hip. He fell back to the bed, writhing in agony. His little dance was noticed by one of the nurses, who rushed over to inject medicine into his IV.

"Is that better young man?" asked Tom's new best friend.

"Yes, much" replied Tom, as the sharp pain in his leg faded into a dull ache. His head swimming, Tom asked "How long have I been here?"

"About two weeks, you were in pretty rough shape when they brought you in, but don't you worry about all that right now. My name is Bradley, and I'm going to take great care of you. If you need anything, just push this red button right here, OK?"

"OK, thank you" replied Tom. The previously gentle glow of the hospital room lights began to intensify, and as he closed his eyes to avoid them, Tom drifted quietly back to sleep.

.....

Tom awoke a couple of hours later feeling more grounded than before. As he began to take in his surroundings, he noticed he was not alone in the room. A thin curtain separated him from another bed, but the occupant appeared to be fast asleep. Glancing up at the clock, he realized it was close to two in the morning. Everything had been such a blur earlier, he hadn't even noticed the lack of daylight coming from the window. Still somewhat tired, and not wanting to disturb his roommate, Tom was about to drift back to sleep when he felt a familiar pressure in his abdomen. The painful lesson of earlier still fresh in his mind, he reached for the red call button to summon help.

"Hello again!" exclaimed Bradley, as he bounced around the corner, his demeanor overly cheerful for the late hour. "Is the leg bothering you again?" he asked, looking concerned.

Oh, no, it's not too bad right now" replied Tom. "Umm, this is kind of awkward, but, I really have to pee. The last time I tried to get up I almost died"

Bradley smirked at Tom's comment, gathering ahold of the blankets at the foot of the hospital bed. "I am so sorry young man, I could have sworn I just changed you during your nap" stated Bradley, as he lifted the bedding and hospital gown in one swift manoeuver. "Just as I thought," said the voice under the blanket, "You're bone dry." As Bradley's quizzical face reappeared from under the covers, his expression quickly changed to one of concern. "Do you have any loss of feeling below the waist?" he asked. "That's something I'll need to get the doctor to look at."

Tom slowly shook his head back and forth, a look of abject horror etched across his face. His hand crept slowly down to investigate the object he'd assumed was a pillow propped between his legs. "What in the ACTUAL FU.."

"OH.....MY GOSH" interrupted Bradley, as his eyes widened, "I am SOOO sorry." He hastily reached for Tom's chart, quickly realizing a mistake had been made. Once he had finished skimming, he wrote a quick note on the chart and set it down on the bedside table. Pulling in close to Tom, he whispered "Listen, I know how weird this must be for you, but you're in a hospital. Your leg is broken in several places, and even with my help it's still going to be very painful moving you. Why don't you try to just let it out?"

Tom couldn't believe the situation he found himself in. Here he was, a grown twenty four year old man, being coaxed to pee himself by an overly chipper dude almost twice his age, who hours ago had literally changed him like a toddler. He was completely humiliated, but as he began to weigh his options against the agony he so vividly remembered from before, he inevitably arrived at the same sobering conclusion as Bradley. Looking over to the nurse with defeat in his eyes, he sheepishly whispered back "You don't seriously expect me to do this with you in the room?"

"Oh, of course not" replied Bradley, turning off the light as he exited the room.

To be continued......

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Author: Emu
Timestamp: Jun 28, 2021 at 2:14 AM
Content: Chapter 5

"Sister Mary! Sister Mary! Tommy peed his bed again!" blurted Gary, his pudgy frame bouncing as he giggled uncontrollably.

"Gary, what have I told you about antagonizing your brothers?" came the reply from the hallway. Tom's face turned beet red, as he retracted his seven year old body underneath the soiled blanket to avoid the unwanted attention. Sister Mary appeared in the doorway and began crossing the room toward the pair, addressing the other boys without breaking stride. "What is everyone standing around for? Do you not have enough chores to keep you busy?" At her words, the small audience that had been gathered around the bunk bed immediately dispursed, leaving the trio behind.

"Honestly ma'am, I was just trying to help" claimed Gary, a hint of smugness in his tone.

"You want to help do you?" quipped the nun. "Thomas, come out from under there and strip all your clothes off" she ordered. Gary stifled a chuckle as best he could under her critical gaze. "Toss your clothes on the bed here, then go wash up for breakfast" she continued. "Your bunkmate is going to bring them down with your bedding to the washroom and get them clean for you. Isn't he helpful?" she asked, emphasizing the last word.

"But....Sister....what about breakfast?" protested Gary, his adolescent voice absent the smug tonality of seconds prior.

"I thought you wanted to be helpful?" snapped Sister Mary. "You weren't....LYING....were you child?"

"No ma'am" replied the disheartened boy, his hands subconsciously moving to cover his bottom.

"Good" replied the nun, as a barefooted Tom padded quickly away from the barracks toward the bathroom. Shutting the door behind him, he turned, only to find himself inexplicably at the podium of a crowded dining hall. Dropping to the floor in a desperate attempt to hide his nakedness, Tom suddenly felt himself falling backwards.

.....

"Arrgh" cried Tom, as he jolted awake. A quick twinge of pain again traveled up his leg into his hip, where it joined an oddly familiar sensation; a warm dampness spreading across Tom's abdomen and down between his legs. The reality of his situation dawning upon him, Tom once again felt his face reddening with embarrassment. Fortunately for him it was not yet morning, the faint light trickling through the window signaling dawn was just around the corner.

Tom began scanning the room, attempting to escape the flood of childhood memories triggered by his predicament. As he glanced over to the night table, he saw the chart Bradley had left hours before. Squinting in the barely lit room, he slowly began to decipher the scrawlings.

Name: John Doe 7268

"Ugh", he groaned, realizing his wallet must not have made it to the hospital with him.

Age: approx 18-21

Tom had grown weary of the constant skepticism regarding his age. He had stopped correcting people years ago. Tom continued reading.

Height: 5' 4"

Weight: 132 lbs.

Eye color: Hazel

Hair color: Dirty Blonde

Background: Pt. was found unresponsive face down in thick vegetation along side CR-414 mile marker 0.3. Transported by ambulance. Pt. had no clothing or property of any kind on his person.

Diagnosis: Pt. suffered compound fracture of the
right tibia. Hairline fracture of the right femur. EKG, CBC, Urinalysis and CT all show signs consistent with near-electrocution. No tissue damage. No potential high-energy sources identified at scene. Pt. remains unresponsive. Vital signs weak but stable.....

Tom glanced down to where he had seen Bradley writing in his chart earlier.

Notes: Presumed undomiciled DR-RT

As he set the chart back on the night table, Tom's head began spinning again. The effect of the pain medication combined with the strain of trying to read in dim lighting had sapped all the energy he'd regained during his brief rest. He reclined back in bed, and as he drifted out of consciousness, he was only faintly aware of his bladder once again emptying into the diaper.

To be continued......

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Author: Emu
Timestamp: Jun 28, 2021 at 3:59 AM
Content:

Chess said:

Hmm, we still don't know what happened from these short chapters. It will be nice to get a more complete picture at some point.

I believe the hospital could have made a more accurate estimate of Tom's age by looking for active bone growth zones in the scannings they made, but that probably didn't have high priority.

BTW, what is undomiciled DR-RT?

[End of quote]

There's a lot I want to reveal slowly, so for a lot of the story I'm intentionally leaving certain things out, trying to be vague on purpose. The chapters are normally where I happened to stop writing for the time being, in a real book I would probably still be in the first chapter or two.

I figured I'd miss something medical, it's definitely not a field I have any knowledge in, so when I was writing the chart stuff I was really winging it.

Undomiciled as in homeless, the initials are not ready to be explained yet. I'm trying to build up to a big reveal, putting obscure little hints here and there, the kind that make sense in retrospect. Sort of like the sixth sense, but way earlier in the story. The kind of thing where the whole story suddenly makes more sense, idk.

Anyway, thanks to everyone for reading with me up to this point. Feel free to leave any comments, questions, criticisms etc.

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Author: Emu
Timestamp: Jul 3, 2021 at 6:14 PM
Content: Chapter 6

Lorraine Havnenwich sat at her large mahogany desk, anxiously awaiting the reports making their way to her office. It had been a long two weeks since the night of the accident, and she had been busy dealing with the fallout.

Lorraine had just finished disbursing a seven figure check to the family of Chet Sommerston. As CEO, Lorraine took it upon herself to contact the families of deceased employees. Although she had borne the responsibility several times, it never got any easier, as each iteration found her stoic facade teetering on the brink of collapse. Whenever she felt her emotions about to burst through, she would withdraw into the darkest parts of her being, each time sacrificing a small piece of her humanity to maintain her composure.

This was necessary, she had persuaded herself, for anyone in her position of authority. There could be no weakness in her resolve, no gaps or cracks in the fortress she had built around herself. She learned at a young age not to count on anyone. Her alcoholic father had disappeared when she was only nine, leaving a distraught mother to raise her alone. Depressed and constantly pendulating between dead end jobs and unemployment checks, the woman was barely capable of looking after herself, let alone an adolescent Lorraine.

The executive's thoughts drifted to the other party involved in the accident, Thomas Orphan, as she pulled the file folder that bore his name from under a stack of papers on her desk. Brenda had quickly identified him as the other driver involved, his license plate matching a permit issued for one of the employee parking garages.

The fact that Tom had worked for the company was less surprising than one would imagine, considering the sheer number of people they employed within the city. This also meant Brenda was able to compile an extremely detailed file on him with relative ease, as all his pertinent details were already in the company database, and he had given written consent submitting to background checks when he had been hired.

Also the product of a difficult childhood, Tom's life had taken a completely different direction. Where Lorraine had relentlessly driven herself to succeed in defiance of her progenitors, Tom appeared content merely coasting through his short existence. His last name, "Orphan", had actually been a clerical error carried over from when the orphanage filed his legal papers. Rather than attempting to correct the error, Tom had simply accepted the new name as his own.

As she browsed over the personnel file, a wave of guilt hit Lorraine; she was originally relieved to learn Tom had no family or loved ones for her to contact. Now, as she glanced over the small, insignificant stack of papers his life had been reduced to, she felt only a profound sadness for the loss of someone who had barely lived. Lost in her thoughts, Lorraine was startled by an abrupt knock at the door. Her assistant entered the office with three large sealed envelopes. "Ma'am, Glen Tawbinger just had these dropped off, for your eyes only" she said, handing over the envelopes.

"Thank you, please hold my calls for the next few hours" replied Lorraine, as she broke the seal on the first envelope. If this revolutionary new energy source had any hope of changing the world, she had to be absolutely certain that it was safe. She needed to get to the bottom of what had happened two weeks ago, and guarantee that it would never happen again.

.....

Glen Tawbinger sat watching his phone, waiting for it to ring. Two hours ago, he had sent up three reports to the CEO detailing the findings of his analyst teams. Unsurprisingly, the first two reports fell in line with their initial assumptions. A build-up of energy in the engine core that was not electromagnetic in nature, and therefore unable to be drawn away by the induction coil, had reached unsustainable levels and breeched containment. All available evidence supported this model, and until Glen had seen the third report, he could find no other possible explanation.

The third team's report had almost turned out much the same as the first two; nine of the ten analysts Glen assigned had initially reached the same conclusions as everyone else. Only one senior team member had disagreed, but his theories had cast enough doubt on the original narrative that the final report included two possible scenarios leading to the accident. As his desk phone jumped to life, Glen lifted the receiver to his ear. "I take it you've read the third report?" he queried.

"I have" replied Lorraine. "Assemble team three and meet me in the secure conference room in one hour" she ordered. It was going to be a long night.

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Author: Emu
Timestamp: Jul 7, 2021 at 4:30 PM
Content: Chapter 7

Tom awoke several hours later to an unfamiliar face hovering over him. The stranger quickly explained his meal choices for the day, and he was handed a small card with several rows of checkboxes. Pencilling in his choices, Tom suddenly realized just how hungry he actually was.

When breakfast arrived, he voraciously devoured the meal in minutes, something he would regret almost immediately. Unbeknownst to Tom, the tail end of his little performance had been observed from the nurses station. Sensing what was about to occur, one of the nurses quickly made her way over to Tom, catching his face with a bag just as his breakfast began playing in reverse.

"I should've warned you sweetie" apologized the nurse, as she rubbed his back. "You haven't had any real food in weeks, you need to go slow."

Tom choked out a hoarse "Thank you" while the nurse gently cleaned his face. As the retching finally came to an end, Tom felt a familiar warmth spreading below his waist. Somehow between the intense stomach cramps, the soothing way the nurse was attending to him and the regressive nature of the whole situation he had begun to wet himself.

Tom didn't know what to make of these sudden lapses of bladder control. Although he had struggled with bedwetting into his early teens, it had been over ten years since his last accident. Even as a child, he had never lost control while he was fully awake. "Why is all of this happening to ME?" Tom asked himself. "What did I DO to deserve this?" Lost in his thoughts of self pity, Tom had no idea his body language had betrayed him.

"Once you're done there, I'll get you cleaned up and changed" stated the nurse, as she pulled the curtain around his bed to give them some privacy.

Tom froze, instantly reverting back to the helpless seven year old boy from the orphanage. Completely vulnerable and exposed, every instinct he had was screaming at him to run, to hide, to get away. He longed to escape with every fiber of his being, but with his leg casted and suspended in place, there were no possible means of egress, physical or emotional. Trapped in the hospital bed, Tom had no choice but to face the feelings he'd been running from for so long. As relentless waves of shame and self loathing pummeled him, the last shred of self control Tom had been clinging to dissolved. Years of surpressed emotions came pouring out of him, and he found himself sobbing uncontrollably.

Tom had no idea how long he spent crying. The nurse had remained by his side the entire time, gently rubbing his back and periodically wiping his face until he slowly regained his composure. Exhausted from the release and completely humbled, Tom launched no protest as the caretaker silently opened the supply closet, removing a thick disposable diaper, several large wipes and a pair of gloves. Leaving them at the foot of the bed, she disappeared behind him and rolled over a small crane.

As the nurse leaned Tom forward, he felt her slip a harness around his back and underneath his arms. After she had secured the device around his chest, it pulled his body upwards until his midsection was suspended just above the mattress. Reappearing at the foot of the bed, the woman quickly rolled up his bedding and hospital gown just as Bradley had done the night before, this time pinning them to the bedrails. She then hung his left leg over the bedrail at the knee, slipped on the gloves and disappeared into the makeshift tent.

Tom shivvered as the soiled undergarment was removed from his body, audibly gasping as the cold dampness of the wet wipes made contact with his skin. Once he had been thoroughly cleaned, the nurse slipped the fresh garment under Tom, using a foot pedal to lower him carefully back down onto the bed. After she had securely fastened and adjusted the diaper, moved his leg back and replaced his coverings, the nurse noticed Tom wincing in pain. As she disconnected him from the harness, she asked "Would you like some more medicine for your leg?"

"Yes, please" Tom replied faintly, his voice weak and raspy. The nurse slipped out of his room and into the hallway, quickly returning with a syringe of clear liquid. Injecting the cocktail into Tom's IV, she carefully adjusted his bed until he was laying down.

"You get some sleep now sweetie, everything's gonna be just fine" reassured the nurse, turning off the light on her way out. As the pain in his leg faded into the distance, Tom felt himself slip into a deep sleep.

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Author: Emu
Timestamp: Jul 11, 2021 at 10:39 PM
Content: Chapter 8

When Tom awoke hours later, lunch was being served. Still a bit queasy from the events of the morning, he was relieved to learn that his previous lunch selection had been replaced by a light soup with some crackers. As he was cautiously finishing his meal, Tom was greeted by a young woman pushing around a computer cart.

"Hi there, my name is Andrea and I work in the registration office. How are you doing today?" she asked.

"Ok, I guess" Tom replied sheepishly, unsure of himself.

"Do you feel up to answering a few questions for me?" Andrea inquired.

"Uh, sure" Tom said, looking down nervously at the empty soup bowl. He felt his cheeks warming under her gaze.

"Great!" the woman continued, "Let's start with your full name."

Andrea continued to extract information from Tom, entering the details he meekly provided into the computer. For her, the process was effortless, a menial task she repeated dozens of times each day. For Tom, the interaction was an exquisite torture, exciting and terrifying at the same time.

At the core of his being, Tom longed to fit in, to make friends, to belong. Yet every time the possibility presented itself, he was crippled by fear and self doubt. This exchange would conclude just as abruptly as it began, once Andrea had finished gathering the required information, she politely excused herself to find the next patient on her list.

Sitting alone in his hospital bed, Tom found himself again longing for the curated social congregations of his youth. Lost in reflection, he failed to notice the short, balding man who had entered the room and was now making his way over toward him. Picking up Tom's chart, the stranger removed the first page, replacing it with a newly printed copy. "Thomas Orphan?" he inquired.

"Yeah, that's me" said Tom.

"Hi, I'm Doctor Smithford, your attending physician. It's nice to see you finally awake and alert." The doctor quickly shook Tom's hand, then continued. "I assume one of the nurses explained the situation to you?"

"Well, sort of" replied Tom. "I know I've been unconscious for about two weeks, and my leg is broken."

"What's the last thing you remember from before you woke up?" asked the doctor.

Tom thought for a minute, then said "I remember getting in my car and going out for a drive along CR-414."

"You were found naked on the side of the road" said Dr. Smithford. "Do you remember stopping for any reason and getting out of the car? Removing your clothing?"

"No" replied Tom.

"Do you remember coming into contact with anything that could've shocked you? Electrical power lines? Lightning?" prodded the doctor.

"No" responded Tom. "Is that what happened to me?"

"Based on the tests we ran when you arrived, that would be my hypothesis. If that is indeed what happened to you, I'm not surprised you're experiencing some memory loss. I'll send a referral up to neurology, they'll want to examine you now that you're awake, run some tests in the next few days to rule out any permanent brain damage. But right now, let's have a look at that leg" said Dr. Smithford, as he pulled the curtain shut and slipped on a pair of gloves. Just as the nurses had done, the doctor rolled up Tom's bedding and hospital gown in one swift movement, pinning them to the bedrails. Tom suddenly felt a sharp poke on his right pinky toe. "Did you feel that?" the doctor inquired.

"Yes" Tom answered.

"Good, and that?" the doctor continued, poking him again.

"Yep" replied Tom. Each affirmative response earned Tom another poke, until the doctor was satisfied there was no nerve damage.

"Besides the leg, any other pain or discomfort? Anything out of the ordinary?" asked Dr. Smithford.

"Um, well..." Tom began, lowering his voice. Sensing Tom's reluctance, the doctor moved closer to maintain his patient's privacy. "Last night, I wet myself in my sleep a couple of times. Then this morning, I had an accident while I was awake" admitted Tom.

"Do you have any loss of feeling down there?" questioned the doctor.

"No" Tom replied.

"Any history of bed wetting?" he queried.

"I stopped when I was fourteen" answered Tom.

"What were you doing this morning when you accidentally urinated?" the doctor asked.

"Throwing up" Tom stated.

"I see" replied the doctor. "Well, you've just been through a traumatic event, so traumatic that you were unconscious for two weeks. It might take a little while for everything to get back to normal for you. Honestly, I wouldn't worry about it yet. Give yourself time to recover. If it doesn't clear up, I'll get you a consult from urology. Until then, try to get as much rest as you can. I expect you'll make a full recovery. Deal?"

"Deal" Tom affirmed, already feeling better about the whole situation. Dr. Smithford replaced Tom's coverings, tossed his gloves into the trash and exited the room.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: Emu
Timestamp: Jul 15, 2021 at 3:18 AM
Content: Chapter 9

Shortly after Dr. Smithford had left, Tom met with his patient liaison, Pete. The daunting list of responsibilities that had piled up over the last two weeks had been weighing on Tom all day. He needed to contact his employer and his landlord. He needed to find out what had happened to his car, and straighten out his insurance. The absence of his cell phone had been almost as debilitating to Tom as his physical injuries.

Tom was quite relieved after speaking with Pete. His liaison had taken down all the necessary information about Tom's employer, landlord and insurance. When he had finished writing, Pete promised to get Tom squared away before heading back to his office.

With a few hours to kill before dinner, Tom decided to see what was on TV. Unable to purchase anything without his wallet or phone, he was restricted to several "basic package" channels. Tom quickly passed over the 24 hour news station and the kids channel, landing on a game show. He had never heard of the show, but it was similar to other trivia shows he had seen before. Playing along in his head, Tom was finally beginning to unwind a bit when a commercial break interrupted his fun.

"Ugh, really?" Tom wondered aloud, as the TV screen displayed an advertisement for adult diapers. Tom rolled his eyes, unwillingly reminded of the padding between his own legs. The last time Tom had actually been in diapers was at the age of five. Whoever had raised him initially hadn't bothered with potty training, he'd arrived on the doorstep of the orphanage with little control over his bodily functions.

The sisters never faulted him for this, patiently training him just as they did the other toddlers. His peers, however, were much less understanding. Often the target of ridicule, Tom was ostracized by the other boys for his frequent accidents. One of their favorite pranks was sneaking diapers from the nursery to leave on his pillow.

Tom rationalized to himself that most people hospitalized with a broken leg wouldn't find wearing diapers this upsetting. For him, however, diapers were an anchor, tethering him to a past best forgotten. They were a conduit for unwanted memories, a mirror reflecting back all the things he hated about himself for so long.

This was the internal struggle Tom faced as his bladder once again began to ache. Determined not to ignore the warning and repeat the mistakes of the morning, Tom quicky looked around to ensure no one was paying him any attention. Without realizing it, he instinctively pulled the blanket over his head and let go. Alone under the covers, Tom struggled to reconcile the anxiety gripping his chest with the relief he felt as he flooded warmth all the way from his waist down between his legs.

Pulling the blanket back down over his head, Tom was relieved to find no one had witnessed his unwitting display of insecurity. He was just about to return to his TV program when his patient liaison rounded the corner. Pulling up a chair, Pete sat down and moved in close. "So I called over to your apartment complex" he began.

"What did they say?" inquired Tom.

"They told me the tenant in 5D was being evicted for non-payment of rent"

"What the hell? It's only been nine days since rent was due, they can't do that!" he exclaimed.

"I know, I explained that you were in the hospital, but they claim you haven't payed in months. I convinced them to postpone clearing out the apartment for thirty days to give you a chance to straighten everything out."

"Thank you" Tom said, relieved. "Were you able to reach my supervisor at work?"

"Unfortunately, I wasn't, are you sure this is the right number?" asked Pete.

"I think so," Tom replied, glancing over at the number scrawled on the notepad, "but without my cell phone I can't be sure. Did you try the main company line?" he questioned.

"Here's the thing, I tried to find information on the company you gave me, but I couldn't. No phone numbers. No address. It's almost as if the company doesn't exist" stated Pete. Tom sat there speechless, unable to form a coherent reply. "Listen," Pete continued, "I'm going to help you sort this all out. Tomorrow is another day, try not to worry about it." Pete ripped a blank page out from his notepad, leaving it on the table with a pen for Tom. "If you think of anything else, write it down for me."

As Pete exited the room and headed to the parking garage, Tom continued staring blankly ahead. He didn't know what was going on. The company he worked for was easily the largest in the small city he called home. No company that size could possibly vanish in two weeks time.

.....

When dinner arrived, Tom listlessly accepted his tray, mumbling a quick thanks. Staring blankly at the TV screen, he failed to notice Bradley arrive at the nurses' station for his shift. After speaking briefly with his co-workers, Bradley walked over to check in on his patient.

"Rough day?" he inquired. Tom nodded sullenly, still reeling from recent developments. "Wanna talk about it?" Bradley offered. Normally, Tom would shy away from such a request, but there was something about Bradley he found quite disarming. He soon found himself unloading all the events of the day, skipping over the more embarrassing bits. Bradley listened intently, silently uncovering Tom's dinner and setting up his utensils. Before long, Tom had finished his tale, along with most of his meal. Sitting back in his bed, Tom became aware of another pressing need.

"Bradley, I really need to use the toilet" Tom stated.

"Are you still having trouble adjusting? I can leave the room again" Bradley offered.

"No, you don't understand" said Tom. "I don't have to pee, I need to go to the bathroom" he insisted.

"Tell you what, if you promise me you'll empty your bladder completely while I'm gone, I'll see if I can find you a bedpan" offered Bradley.

"What is the big deal?" Tom asked, clearly frustrated. "I get that it's annoying to move me, I do. I've been cooperating all day, even though I really HATE wearing this thing. Can we PLEASE just try to get me over to the bathroom? If it hurts too bad, I'll turn back and use the stupid bedpan, I promise" he implored.

"Tom, this is a hospital" said Bradley, his voice calm but firm. "There is no bathroom, public toilets are illegal."