The Mystery of Hector Forrest
Chapter Three

November 22nd, 1975

A pounding in my head, stirred me from my slumber. I felt groggy and disorientated. The room was spinning in circles and my heart was beating so fast, I was afraid it might fall right out of my chest.

Patches of white blinded me as my eyesight finally came into focus and the ringing in my ears ceased. I took a look around at my surroundings, feeling a knot well up inside of me.

I was laying on a hospital bed, in the middle of an olden day infirmary. I had seen them in pictures when we studied History but seeing them up close was a pleasant surprise.

Maple Park had kept its old infirmary instead of transforming it into the 21st century hospitals we know today.

I quite liked it at first until I realised, I was hooked up to a machine and the beeping was the sound of my heart on the monitor. Panic filled me inside as I noticed that people were bustling around in the ward, taking no notice of me.

'Had I been so drunk last night I passed out and somebody took me to the hospital?'

I couldn't have been that drunk, surely.

But I am thankful someone decided to take me to the hospital. At least, on the bright side, I didn't have to drive home in the dark while being tired because all of the hostels were full.

I saved myself a trip that would've ended in disaster anyway.

"Oh sweetheart, you're awake!"

A gush came from the rounded lady, dressed in old nurse clothes. She had a sympathetic smile across her face and a knowing twinkle in her eyes. It was as if she was looking straight into my soul and she understood me best.

"Uh, yeah," I mumbled as I tried to sit up. She was quick to gently push me back down. I was glad for it too because my head was beginning to spin again. I always hated feeling dizzy as it had a habit of causing my reflux to go into overdrive.

I never could handle my alcohol, according to my cousin, Zachariah Abbot. He would tease me mercilessly about it and I'd call him 'Zachy' in return just to boil his blood.

To him, you either called him by his full name or Zach - not the name his mother used to call him. He hated feeling small and inferior.

I loved to dish it out right back at him.

"Don't strain yourself, dear."

"How did I get here?" I asked, hoping the lady would help me.

My eyes scanned her, taking in her appearance. She had short, greying-brown hair and kind, dark eyes. She looked to be about mid-forties. She made me feel warm inside and safe.

I noticed there was a name tag on her uniform, and it said 'Helena'.

"You were hauled in here in the middle of the night by a boy," Helena said, softly, gesturing to the left with her eyebrows.

There was that twinkle in her eyes again but this time I didn't think it was because of the drinking.

There, on the seat beside my bed, slept a strange boy.

His face was fair and young. He looked to be no older than seventeen. His hair was a light, blonde colour that seemed to shine a little in the morning light. He seemed way too peaceful sleeping and I almost didn't want to wake him.

But I needed answers.

I needed to know who he was and why he took me to the hospital.

"I'll be back in ten to check your vitals," commented Helena as she sent me a wink before leaving the ward as quickly as possible.

I think she left me alone with this stranger on purpose. He mustn't be too bad if she was happy to leave in such a rush.

"Hey," I said, a little loudly, in hopes he'd wake from his own slumber.

I looked over at the chord that was in my left arm, that was attached to the machine, and tugged on it a little. If I could move to this mysterious boy and wake him up without alerting everybody I'd moved from my bed, that would be preferable.

Slowly, I tugged on it a bit more, hoping the machine would move an inch to the right, to give me more space. It moved, but not by much at all. I sighed before thinking about what my other options were. I noticed there was a tray of food on my left and a cup of water, still full.

It only took a moment for it to seep in to my thick skull, to realise what my only option was.

Next thing anybody knew, I'd thrown water at the sleeping boy.

Those sitting in their beds around us, watched us warily, as the boy slowly came back to consciousness.

His eyes widened as he took in his drenched clothing and then they narrowed at me.

"I save your life and you throw water at me?" he asked with a hint of confusion and suspicion in his green eyes.

They were deep and inviting. He didn't seem that upset that I'd thrown water on him, so I shrugged.

"I want to know why you took me here. I wasn't dying."

"Sure looked like it. No heartbeat and you weren't even breathing," the guy clipped back.

He seemed a little annoyed now. I winced a little as I sat up properly, ignoring the searing in my head and the room beginning to spin once more.

"You're not supposed to sit up, you know," the guy chastened me, the same way my uncle did whenever I was doing something I shouldn't.

I rolled my eyes discreetly in return. He wasn't my parent, he couldn't tell me what to do.

In a flash, he was fixing my pillow, so my back was laid across it. The pillow was soft and the more I focused on it, the room came back into focus once more. The spots in front of my eyes slowly disappeared as well.

"Who are you and why are you helping me?"

"Is it a crime to help people now?" the guy joked, raising an eyebrow.

He shook his head as he took a seat once more. He leaned his arms behind his head as he cocked it to the side, as if analysing me. He looked as if he was trying to understand me or something.

As if I were a mystery to solve.

"I'm Hector Forrest and you are?"