MidReal Story
Twisted Fate: A Collision of Lives
Scenario: A man in his 30s gets into an accident, hit by a truck by man in his early 20s. The man wakes up in hospital and is told what happen and release in wheelchair. Heading out he runs into a boy who is getting mug and the man wheels over and knocks them.out with a cane.
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Sarah Jennings
nurse attending to Johnathan in the hospital, professional relationship with Johnathan and Michael, red hair, petite frame, caring and efficient.
Johnathan Mercer
victim of the accident, no significant relationships, dark hair, average build, resilient and introspective.
Michael Turner
driver of the truck that hit Johnathan, no significant relationships, blonde hair, athletic build, remorseful and anxious.
I woke up to the sound of a heart monitor beeping.
My head was pounding, and I couldn’t see anything.
I tried to move my hand to rub my eyes, but it wouldn’t budge.
I tried to move my legs, but they wouldn’t budge either.
Panic set in as I realized I couldn’t move any part of my body.
“Hey, you’re awake.”
I heard a voice say.
“Can you hear me?”
I tried to nod my head, but it wouldn’t move.
“Don’t try to move,” the voice said.
“You’ve been in an accident.”
I tried to ask what happened, but my mouth wouldn’t move either.
The panic was overwhelming as I realized that I was paralyzed from the neck down.
How could this have happened?
I was only thirty years old and in good health.
What kind of accident could have caused this?
The last thing I remembered was walking home from work and then nothing.
I awoke to the sound of a heart monitor beeping.
My vision was blurry, and I couldn’t see anything.
I tried to move my hand to rub my eyes, but it wouldn’t budge.
I tried to move my legs, but they wouldn’t move either.
Panic set in as I realized that I couldn’t move any part of my body.
I heard footsteps approaching, and a woman walked into the room.
She had bright red hair and was wearing scrubs.
“Hey, you’re awake,” she said.
“Can you hear me?”
I tried to nod, but my neck wouldn’t move either.
“Don’t try to move,” she said.
“You’ve been in an accident.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just laid there in silence, trying to make sense of what was happening.
The woman looked at me with concern and then left the room, saying that she needed to get someone.
My heart was racing, and I tried to take deep breaths to calm myself down.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember what had happened to me.
The last thing I could recall was walking home from work and then nothing.
But how had I ended up in the hospital?
And why couldn’t I move?
The woman came back into the room, pushing another woman with her who was wearing a white coat.
The doctor introduced herself as Dr.Jennings and said that she was going to do some tests on me to see if I could feel anything below my neck.
I felt her touch my hand, and then she moved down my arm to my fingers, asking me if I could feel anything.
I wanted to tell her that I could feel it, but I couldn’t make any sound come out of my mouth.
After what felt like an eternity, she stopped touching me and said that she would be back later to talk to me more about my injuries.
When she left the room, I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling.
I felt like I was going to throw up.
I took deep breaths, but it didn’t help.
My head was pounding, and I felt like I was going to pass out again.
I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the heart monitor beeping beside me.
It was the only sound in the room other than the hum of the machines that were hooked up to me.
I listened for a while longer, trying to hear if anyone else was in the room with me or if there were any other sounds coming from outside the door.
But there was nothing other than that steady beeping sound.
I tried to remember what had happened to me and how I had ended up here, but I just couldn’t piece it together.
The last thing I remembered was someone telling me not to move because I had been in an accident.
The beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room, a constant reminder that I was alive but something was terribly wrong.
The sound of footsteps broke through the silence as the door creaked open again.
“Good morning,” a voice said.
I wanted to respond, but my mouth wouldn’t work properly, so I just listened as the sound of footsteps grew closer.
“How’s our patient today?”
the voice continued when they reached my bed.
Dr.Jennings asked as she looked down at me with a smile on her face.
The other person didn’t answer right away, which made me nervous.
Finally, I heard them say something I could make out: “No changes.”
I wanted to ask what that meant, but I still couldn’t get my mouth to work properly.
I lay there, trying to move my hand or my leg or anything, but my body refused to cooperate.
A few minutes passed in silence before Dr.Jennings spoke again: “I’ll be back later to check on you.”
She left the room, and I heard the door close behind her, leaving me alone in silence once more.
I lay there with my eyes closed, trying to figure out what was happening to me and what was going to happen next.
Had I been in some kind of terrible accident?
Was that why I couldn’t move and why it felt like my body was wrapped in a straightjacket?
I tried to remember what had happened when I was walking home from work that day and why it had all gone black, but my mind was still foggy and it was hard to focus on anything other than the steady beeping of the heart monitor beside me.
And then it clicked: The voice I had heard before I lost consciousness—the one that told me not to move because I had been in an accident—it wasn’t Dr.Jennings.
It was a man’s voice.
I started to panic as I realized that whoever had found me and brought me here wasn’t the woman with red hair who had just left the room.
I tried to move my hand or my leg again, anything to let them know that I wasn’t asleep and that I knew something wasn’t right.
But no matter how hard I tried, my body wouldn’t budge.
Fear was coursing through me as I realized that I couldn’t speak or cry out for help either.
There was nothing I could do except lie there and wait for someone to come back into the room.
The door opened again a few minutes later, and the woman with bright red hair entered the room once more.
This time she was followed by a man who was wearing a white coat over his scrubs.
He walked over to the bed and looked down at me with a serious expression before introducing himself as Dr.Sullivan and saying that he was one of the trauma surgeons who had worked on me when I first arrived at the hospital.
My heart was pounding in my chest as he looked down at me with a somber expression.
“Yes,” he said after a moment of silence.
He gave me a sympathetic smile as he reached for the chart at the foot of the bed, and my heart sank when I realized what he was going to say next: “We’re going to need to run some tests to find out exactly what your injuries are, but right now it looks like you’ve suffered some serious damage to your spinal cord.”
I wanted to scream or cry or do something to let him know that I could hear him and that I needed him to help me, but my body still wouldn’t move, and no sound came out of my mouth when I tried to speak.
“Your vocal cords may have been damaged as well,” he said, as if he could see the questions written on my face.“I know this is frightening for you, but I need you to stay calm.”
I tried to signal to him that I could hear him by moving my head slightly—I think it’s the only part of my body that I can still move—but he didn’t seem to notice or understand what I was trying to tell him as he continued speaking in his calm, reassuring voice: “You were in a car accident, and you’ve been unconscious for the past few days.I’m sorry this has happened to you, but we’re going to do everything in our power to help you recover from your injuries, okay?”
I lay there, unable to move or speak as I tried to process what he was telling me: I’d been in a car accident, and it seemed like I’d been unconscious for a few days?
How is that even possible?
Was it really Thursday?
Had everything that happened since Tuesday afternoon all been some kind of terrible nightmare?
The beeping of the heart monitor beside me kept echoing in my ears as I struggled to accept what was happening to me: I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, and apparently, I’d been unconscious for three days after a car accident?
If all of this was true, then why hadn’t anyone told me about it before now?
Why did it feel like they were trying to keep me in the dark about what had happened?
But most of all, why did it sound like Dr.Sullivan felt sorry for me and like he thought I might not make it?
Fear gripped me as I realized that no one had told me what had happened since the last thing I remember is walking home from work on Tuesday afternoon.
Where were my friends and family?
How could they not have been by to check on me if I’d been in the hospital for three days?
Or at least called to let me know what was going on?
I couldn’t stop myself from panicking even more as I lay there and waited for Dr.Sullivan to continue speaking to me in his calm, soothing voice: “We’re going to need to run some tests to find out exactly what your injuries are and how serious they are before we can proceed with treatment or tell you what your prognosis is going to be like.”
He paused for a moment to look down at me before he continued: “This isn’t going to be easy, but I want you to know that we’re going to do everything we can to help you recover from your injuries and get you back on your feet again.”
