“Would you mind telling me the time?” I asked.
“It is 2:44PM.” the old lady said cheerily.
“Oh no,” I groaned. “I told my mother I’d be home by Sunday…”
“Sunday? Oh no dear, it’s Wednesday,” she said.
“Wednesday?” I asked. The pain in my head stopped, paralyzed by the immense fear that suddenly engulfed me.
“Yes… October 15th…”
The plans for our sleepover were for the 28th of September. I had been unconscious and inside that house for almost two weeks. God knows what happened in that time.
The pained expression on my face startled the old woman.
“What’s wrong?!” she asked, her voice full of concern. I didn’t want to go into detail.
“It’s just this headache. It hurts so much,” I lied and broke into loud sobs.
“Let me take a look at your head, sweetheart. I was a nurse for 30 years. Jim, turn to the hospital, we’re getting this young lady some help right away.”
“No, really… It’s fine. I just want to go to my mom,” I said.
“Trust me, darling. Your parents will thank us.”
Jim briefly pulled over to let his wife climb into the back with me.
“Okay, let’s see here…”
She raised her trembling, ancient hands to my head and started to unwrap the cloth. I shrieked in anguish. I could feel raw skin ripping off the top of my head. A wound?