When he first opened his eyes, the man had no idea what was going on. The lights were rather bright, but considering that he was on his back it was easy to deduce that he was in bed. As his eyes slowly began to focus, the man was surprised to see that he had a cast on his arm. It took a few moments for him to finally realize that he was in a hospital. There was a bandage on his head, but that wasn't the worst of it as he looked down at his legs only to realize one of them was also in a cast. He looked down at the arm with out a case, and on his wrist there was a tag that had a name on it: John Doe.

     That's a weird name, he thought to himself, but it was something to work with for now. John tried sit up but he didn't have the energy. This led him to think that the lack of energy and muscle might suggest he had been staying at this hospital for quite some time. He took a deep breath and just tried to relax. It was apparent John wasn't going anywhere, especially on one leg so there was no immediate need for him to hop out of bed. He soon realized that he didn't even need to go to the bathroom as there was some rather uncomfortable tubes hooked up to his privates. This was also a big hint to how long he might have been in this building. He didn't get here yesterday and it was this point where John finally discovered a new problem. He couldn't remember why he was there or anything else for that matter. He had no recollection of anything. It was like someone had erased every video from the hard drive of his brain. The blank void that remained frustrated John a great deal as he couldn't remember what event caused him to be in this bed. It was one thing to lose a few hours, but for John there was nothing. It was going to be a long day if he didn't get someone to talk to very soon.

     Suddenly there was a sound. The door had swung opened and John watched as a pretty cute nurse casually walked in, checked his charts, and even started talking to him.

     "And how are we doing this morning, Mr. Doe?" she asked.

     "I've been better," John confessed, "How are you?"

     After hearing what John had said, the nurse screamed and jumped as if someone had crept up behind her. Clearly she wasn't expecting him to answer and even saying a word gave her a fright.

     "Holy shit!" she yelled as she backed away from the bed.

     "Are you alright, ma'am?" John asked.

     "I'm sorry," The nurse said, taking a deep breath. "I'm alright. You stay there, and I'll be right back."

     The nurse bolted into the hallway and her response was another clue to John as to how long he had been residing in this hospital. When the nurse walked in, clearly she wasn't expecting someone to talk back to her. It gave John the indication that he wasn't just in an accident but that he had just woken up from being in a rather decent coma.

     A few minutes later, the doctor came into the room to examine him. John could see the surprise on his face too. The doctor was likely thinking that the nurse was pulling a joke on him, but there he was: wide eyed and ready to talk.

     "What's up doc?" John called out.

     The doctor didn't respond at first and instead choose to look at his eyes doing various tests with a small flashlight. "Things look all right. Tell me Mr. Doe, do you know where you are?"

     "I assume this is a hospital." John answered.

     "That is correct." The doctor replied. "Do you remember how you got here? What happened before you opened your eyes?"

     "I'm afraid not." John answered.

     "What's the last thing you can remember?" the doctor asked.

     "I can't remember anything." John answered.

     "Nothing?" The doctor repeated.

     "Fraid not, doc." John confirmed.

     "Nothing at all?" the doctor asked again.

     "Ziltch." John answered again.

     The doctor took that flashlight out again and re-examined his eyes. "I was afraid that might happen. Can you at least remember what your name is?"

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     "It's John." The patient replied. "Says so right here."

     The doctor sighed, clearly frustrated.

     "That's not your name." He explained, "It's just a generic the hospital gives patients that we can't identify. The fact you can read, however, it is actually a good sign. You are remembering some things, like how to read, but you're just not able to recall any actual memories."

     "Will my memories come back to me?" John asked.

     "I'm not sure," The doctor answered. "The brain is a very fickle thing. It could all come back tomorrow or it might never come back at all. It's really not something we can foretell as head traumas tend to be quite unpredictable and believe me you took a really nasty one when your lights went out."

     "What exactly happened to me?" John asked.

     "I think we'll let the police fill you in on that." The doctor answered.

     "What do you mean the police?" John asked, slightly confused. "Am I in trouble?"

     "I'm not sure." The doctor replied, "They just want to ask you a few questions for now."

     The doctor could tell how stressed John was getting and put a reassuring hand on John's shoulder.

     "Try to should focus on the positives instead," the doctor said, "You're awake, and more importantly... you're alive. Let's start there and appreciate burn the other bridges when we get to them."

     John took a deep breath. "Alright, thank you."

     "Not a problem." The doctor said as he started to leave the room. "I'll make sure the nurse brings in something solid to eat. I'd recommend starting slow; your gut needs time to adjust to eating solids again."

     After the doctor and nurse left, John sat there and looking up at the ceiling. He tried his best to remember anything but it was still just a blank space. He turned to the table beside him and there was nothing. No flowers, no magazines, no signs that anyone had come there to visit him. Only a few thoughts ran through John's head as he looked around: either no one knew where he was or there was no one out there that cared enough to visit. Rather than pout about something he had no control over, John struggled to sit up in his bed but failed again. Seconds later the nurse came back in to help.

     She tossed him a small remote that was beside his bed, "This will reposition the bed for you. Save your energy until it's safe to move around. Okay?"

     "You know best I suppose." John said as he used the remove to lift the back of his bed so that he would be sitting up a bit. He reached over to the table beside him and grabbed a small bottle of water that was unopened. He cracked it open but did as the doctor said and only took a few sips. His mouth was bone dry so to let the water spill into his mouth felt so refreshing. He laid back against the bed and sighed, closing his eyes and tried to rest a bit. Moments later he bed shook and as John opened his eyes, he was startled to see the police was there as the doctor had earlier hinted. John could barely see them as his eyes were likely still focusing from being closed for such a long time. He squinted and could bare look past the gauze that was covering his face. "Can I help you?" he softly asked.

     "You can start by giving us your name." One of the men in uniform asked. He didn't seem very happy at that moment and John couldn't help but feel he was the reason for it.

     "I don't know," John answered. "I was honestly hoping you'd have that information for me."

     "What the fuck is this bullshit?" one of other uniformed officers called out. Clearly he wasn't impressed with that answer.

     "Calm down, Sheriff." A voice called from outside. John turned his head to see who it was. There was a man wearing a suit and he looked to be no older than forty five, but he didn't recognize him either. "I just spoke with the doctor and it appears that John here is having trouble recalling anything. He's suffering from severe amnesia which isn't uncommon considering the shot he took to the head during the accident."

     "What kind of accident are you talking about?" John asked.

     The older man turned back to look at John. "I'm afraid you were involved in a very brutal car accident."

     "How brutal?" John asked.

     "Life was lost." The old man replied.

     "I'm sorry." John suddenly said. He couldn't' recall the accident but he was hoping this wasn't his fault. From the anger he was getting from the Sheriff, there was a good chance that it was.

     "That's not necessary." The man in the suit replied. "Your vehicle was struck by another that ran a red light. The driver who was in the other car didn't survive. Except for yourself and the other driver, everyone else walked away with only minor injuries."

     "I can't remember any of it." John confessed.

     "What can you remember?" the man asked.

     "Nothing." John answered. "I can't remember anything before waking up here."

     "Thank you for speaking with us John." The old man responded. "We appreciate your efforts. I've left my card with your doctor. If you do happen to remember anything, can we speak to you about it later?"

     "Of course," John answered. "I'll do what I can to help."

     "Just relax, John." The nurse said as she adjusted some pillows for him. "I think it's time you all left."

     The nurse seemed very defensive but was likely just doing her job. The sheriff didn't seem impressed with her attitude, but he left anyway. John didn't know why he was so upset, but any accident where life was lost had to be traumatic to anyone so he could hardly blame him for be a little pissed off. He was likely hoping to get some answers to what happened but John had let him down. Not remembering anything was so frustrating. He sat back and just sighed deeply and tried to relax.

     A few moments later the nurse came back with a tray which was likely his lunch. "Here you go. I hope you like it."

     "I'm not sure," John said as he took the lid of the tray. "But I guess there's only one way to find out."