I can still feel the scrapes of the ghost's nails on my back and legs. The same ankle I broke is bruised and my right hip is dislocated from kicking so forcefully. Asides from those inflicted injuries, I got cut up by the rocks and twigs in the river too. Struggling to even crawl, I somehow get myself underneath a street lamp. This way people passing by will be able to see me.

As I began to assess my whereabouts, I heard something drop. I look around.

The sound came from groceries being dropped on the floor. A girl was looking at me. Ah. My wet, dirty apperance combined with my bloodied, torn clothes, I must be quite the sight.

"Please don't run. I need someone to bring me to the hospital."

She just stands there. Frozen in fear?

"I'm not a ghost you know."

She still doesn't say anything. Was my joke not funny? Wait, someone looking like me who says they aren't a ghost. Couldn't that be easily taken the wrong way? Rather, doesn't that sound exactly like something a ghost would say?

At this point, desperately saying and repeating, 'please help me' would probably scare away anyone who sees me in this state. So I decided to keep my trap shut and pretend to be completely incapacitated, in hopes of garnering sympathy. Hopefully eventually she'll call the ambulance.

"Are you alright?"

Operation Shut My Trap is successful. The Golf has taken the bait, I repeat, the Golf has taken the bait.

"Hospital. Pain."

Keep your words short and brief, while breathing shallowly and saying things in a raspy way to further enforce the idea that you are severely injured and need help.

After all, a chatty patient is a healthy patient. So I just need to restrain my talkative self for a moment and fit into the person in dire need role.

She pokes my cheek, irritating me.

"Are you human?"

No. I'm a robot sent from the distant future to destroy humanity- Of course, I'm a human!

"No, I'm fish. Didn't you see me come from the river?"

Why did I say that? Am I stupid? Is something wrong with my head? This is the only person around to help me right now. Why couldn't I restrain my sarcastic mouth for just a few more seconds?

"Hahaha~"

She laughed. That's good. She took that as a joke.

"I'll help you out, Fish."

Does she genuinely believe that is my name or is she joking? I honestly can't tell.

"I'll call an ambulance, hang on alright."

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She takes off her jacket and puts it on me.

She runs off.

She ran off.

She has run off.

And I waited. Waited until my eyes were about to completely shut and then.

"Fish? Are you okay?"

She returned and is standing over me. And she's still calling me by that. All I can see is her silhouette with the street lamp shining overhead.

"Not really."

"Of course, you wouldn't be. You're Fish out of water. Heehee"

Ah was that a pun? That was a pun wasn't it?

"Maybe I should put you back in the river?"

Unbeknownst to her, she had just made a really terrifying joke.

"No thank you. I'm actually really enjoying my time on land."

I don't mind going along with the gag. It is a good idea to entertain an injured person.

"So do you mind explaining what you're doing out of the river, Fish? Heehee"

She giggled at her own joke again.

"Ah you know, I wanted to get some fresh air."

She giggles uncontrollably again. These fish jokes are really hitting her funny bone I see.

"Well you can stay as long as you like, Fish."

"Yeah as soon as I'm healed up, I'll be able to swimmingly get home."

She giggles even harder than the last time. Is this really that funny to her? It's amusing don't get me wrong but in my opinion, it's not good enough to stir up laughter.

"So where did you come from, Fish?"

"The next town upstream of here."

"Is it fun there?"

"Ah I guess it is fun. I have something to do every day there."

"But just because you have something to do every day doesn't mean it's something fun. I have to work every day and it certainly isn't fun at all."

"Well what do you think is fun?"

"Fish."

What? Is she saying I'm fun or the fish that swims.

"Being able to chit chat like this is fun, I mean."

"Don't you chit chat with other people besides me?"

"No. Not really."

The mood's kinda dimmed a bit. I stepped on a landmine there. That was a bad question on my part.

"It's been fun chit chatting with you too."

Nice recovery, Fish.

Ah I can hear sirens in the distance. Good timing, the pain's getting worse.

"Thanks for the help... I never asked for your name did I?"

"Ho ho... Are you asking me for my personal information, Fish? Perhaps you want to see me again? Want my number as well?"

"...Not really."

I had an inkling of this before with her constant fish puns but she's kind of obnoxious. A good kind of obnoxious though.

"Aww don't be so cold to your savior, Fish. Here's your savior's name and phone number."

She takes a piece of paper and pen out from her skirt and writes on it. She stuffs the paper inside the pocket of her jacket.

"Keep the jacket. Call me when you're dismissed from the hospital and I can send you back to your school. Heehee. Get it, 'school'?"

'School', another fish pun. I'm fresh out of fish related puns though.

"I'm a fresh graduate from high school though. I'd rather you send me home instead."

"You want me to send you home, oh my, the way you're phrasing that makes me think you have some interior motives."

"You mean ulterior motives."

"Hmm yes. Bye Fish~"

She left and the medics put me into the back of the ambulance

Two days later, I was dismissed after getting a cast put on my right leg. Apparently I cracked one of my ribs and my right leg as well.

I called up my savior, 'Amelia Earhart'... to be my ride home. Seriously no joke. That was the name she wrote on the paper. What kind of person names themselves after a famous person? And so now I'm waiting in front of the hospital for my mystery savior to come pick me up.

After a short wait of...

120 minutes.

A two seater rental car pulled into the hospital driveway.

"Hop in Fish!"

My brain took a bit longer to process what was before me than I would like to admit.

Inside the car, was a demure looking girl with long brown locks, wearing a dress, who seemed to be around my age. The disparity between voice and body was large. Huge even. Such disparity that my brain could not comprehend that the voice and body belonged to the same person. I had imagined a large breasted, twenty plus year old woman, black clothing with tattoos rolling in on a monster truck or a bike.

It's not that I was looking forward to the latter description in actuality I much prefer this one. It was just that her personality and voice had given me that sorely mistaken impression.

"It's me, Amelia! Hop in!"

She opened the passenger door, beckoning me to enter.

Unsure of what to say, I quietly enter the vehicle, close the door and strap myself in. I hope she's a good driver.