|(State-of-Confusion by Elliottt Klein)|
"Darling, you are home", he said, looking concerned. "Don't you remember slipping on the ice? You took a really bad fall and hit your head, and you've been drifting in and out of sleep for the last two days. It was a bad concussion, but the doctor says you're going to be ok."
She didn't recall any of that, or this bedroom, or the man who was calling her Darling. "Who are you?" she asked, her sense of panic rising. Then she realized that she couldn't remember her own name, and a look of terror filled her eyes.
"It's ok, Darling", the man said in a soothing voice. "The doctor said it may take some time for the swelling and bruising to reside and that's probably what has your memory a little fuzzy. You just rest, and I'll go fix you something to eat."
She had to get out of here, had to get away; had to find her home, wherever that was. As soon as the man left the room, she bolted out of bed. Grabbing the quilt, she wrapped it around her shoulders and slipped out the French doors onto the patio, running across it in her bare feet, heart pounding and head throbbing in pain.
John reentered the room to find the patio doors hanging wide open and his wife gone. Dropping the tray of food on the bed, he ran outside calling her name... realizing as he did so that since she didn't even know her name and was clearly afraid, she would probably hide from him and not respond to his voice. Her state of discombobulation had just entered the realm of terror for them both.
This post is linked up at Two Shoes Tuesday
where the prompt this week is "discombobulated".