Vampire Next Door

by Angela Snyder

  "Are you okay, ma'am?" the detective asked.

  "I don't know," she whispered. A tingling sensation traveled from her hands to the base of her skull. She felt a prickling sensation all over her head as the room began to spin. And then she slipped into the overwhelming darkness.

  * * *

  "Jane, wake up," a familiar voice said.

  She gradually opened her eyes and grasped her surroundings. She was still in the hospital room. Dr. Walker was hovering over her, and Detective Robbins was in the corner of the room.

  "How do you feel, Jane?" the doctor asked.

  She sat up and winced at the pounding in her head. "I have a headache. What happened?"

  "You passed out," the detective said.

  She glanced up at Dr. Walker, who looked concerned. "We'll see what the CT scan results show tomorrow," he said. "Maybe that will give us a clue as to what happened to you."

  Detective Robbins stood with a small case and piece of paper in his hands. "I just need to take your fingerprints, and then I'll be on my way so you can get some rest."

  Jane obliged as he pushed each of her fingers into the black ink and then pressed them on a sheet of paper. When he was finished, he closed the case and said, "I'll call if anything turns up from the prints. Until then, let us know if you remember anything, anything at all. I'll be in touch."

  She nodded and watched him leave the room. She stared down at the black ink on her fingertips. "Maybe they will find me in the system."

  "Maybe," Jack said, but he didn't sound so sure.

  "Maybe I robbed a bank or something, and I escaped from prison."

  He chuckled. "You don't seem the type to be out on the lam, Jane."

  "No?"

  "No." He smiled. "We should hear about your test results tomorrow morning from the CT scan. Dr. Harris also mentioned a possible electroencephalogram, but we'll see what she decides."

  A heavy silence filled the air. Jane said, "I saw the newspaper articles. I wasn't in an accident. Someone tried to kill me."

  It was a few moments before Jack spoke. "You're safe here, Jane," he responded.

  She nodded slowly. She truly wanted to believe that.

  "I think what you saw might have been a trigger for your fainting spell. I treated a patient before who had a traumatic brain injury. I had a theory that when his brain was overloaded with information, it went into shutdown mode, so to speak, sort of like a computer. I hope that this was just a one-time thing and it won't reoccur. But for right now I want you to keep calm and don't dwell on anything until we get the test results back."

  Jane gave him a few nods. She glanced at the Christmas tree and then up at Dr. Walker. "I'm sorry about earlier with Dr. Harris. I hope I didn't get you in trouble."

  "No, you didn't get me in trouble." He drew in a deep breath and said, "First and foremost, you are my patient Jane. I crossed the line this morning, and for that I am sorry. It won't happen again."

  Jane looked down at her hands in her lap. "I understand."

  He cleared his throat. "I would like to start you on physical therapy tomorrow. We'll start out very slow and gradually increase it. Our goal for the moment is to get you out of here and into the post-hospital center next door. Right now we are looking at about six months of therapy, depending on how fast you progress." His tone was very matter-of-factly, and Jane could tell a difference in his demeanor since he had mentioned about the doctor-patient relationship.

  "Okay," she managed.

  "I'll see you tomorrow," he said before turning and leaving the room.

  Jane leaned back in bed and closed her eyes. The one person she wanted in her life was pushing her away. And without Dr. Walker, she had no one.

  CHAPTER 6

  THE NEXT DAY the test results came back negative. Dr. Harris wasn't sure what was causing the amnesia. "There is no bleeding on the brain. That was our main concern." She looked up from the chart. "We can try more tests, Jane," she said, reassuringly.

  Jane gave her a wavering smile. She was disappointed, but she appreciated Dr. Harris' effort.

  "I would like to know what is going on with the fainting spells. If they get worse, we will talk about medication that could be beneficial." She closed the folder in her hands. "But we will cross that bridge when we get to it," she added.

  Jane nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Harris."

  "You're very welcome. I'll keep apprised of your situation through Dr. Walker, but don't be afraid to contact me personally."

  "Okay."

  "Goodbye, Jane. Best of luck to you."

  The doctor left the room. Jane thought about the empty black hole where her memories should be. One question in particular gnawed at the back of her brain — what if she never found out who she truly was?

  * * *

  Jack skimmed over the test results in Dr. Harris' office. He sat back in the leather chair. "So everything is negative," he confirmed.

  Cynthia nodded. "You know, quite frankly, I'm surprised. With the trauma she had, I find it odd that we didn't find something on the scan. You know it's a miracle she even woke up."

  "I know," Jack agreed. His mind drifted to the mysterious visitor Jane had just moments before she had awakened. He wasn't completely positive the man had been in her room, but it seemed like an odd connection that she woke up after he was in the hospital. Maybe he was some type of healer.

  "Something you're not telling me?"

  Jack shook his head. "No. Just thinking of something, but I'm sure it's unrelated."

  "Well, I'm sorry I can't be of more help."

  He stood. "Thank you for your assistance, Cynthia."

  "Anytime."

  Jack left her office and made his way through the hospital and up the elevator to Jane's room. When he entered, Jane was sitting in the bed staring out the window. As his footsteps grew closer, she turned and smiled.

  "How did your physical therapy go this morning?" he asked.

  She shrugged. "All right I guess. It was really painful."

  "It will get better. I promise. And the sooner you are done with the rehab in here, the sooner you can go over to the post-hospital facility. And trust me, the food over there is way better."

  Jane grinned, and Jack found himself reflecting her expression. "I went over your test results with Dr. Harris."

  "They were negative," she said.

  "Yeah. That's not necessarily a bad thing."

  "Still doesn't explain what's going on."

  "No, it doesn't." He wished he could hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Instead, he stood feet away from her bed with his hands clenched at his sides. He had made a promise to himself that he would not cross the line, and he was determined to keep that promise. She was his patient, and he was going to give her the very best of care. "We'll figure this out, Jane. There are more tests. And sometimes all you need is time."

  She nodded, but her expression remained impassive. "Time is all I have right now."

  "Let's just focus on one thing and not the whole picture. And right now the therapy is the most important thing." He smiled, but inside he was a ball of emotions. He wanted to remain positive, but he honestly didn't know if Jane would ever regain her memory.

  CHAPTER 7

  TWO MONTHS PASSED, and Jane progressed well with physical therapy. The post-hospital center was the closest thing to calling a home since the hospital. She had a small room with a single bed and a few belongings that were mostly from the Salvation Army. A large bookcase held a staggering amount of books that she had been collecting. Jane fell in love with every single story she read, and every book was better than the last. Sometimes it was easier to live in the fantasy worlds than her own reality, and she found it was an easy escape from her life.

  It was a Wednesday and she had just finished up with several leg exercises with her physical therapist, Daryl. She sat down at a small table in the corner of the room.

  Daryl placed a piece of paper and pencil in front of Jane. "You kno
w the drill. Just try to answer the questions. I'm going to check on another patient, and then I'll be back."

  When he walked away, Jane stared down at the paper. She had seen it every day since she had been moved to the facility. It was a mental exercise with twenty questions. The first question was what is your name. Jane scowled at the question. She didn't know her real name.

  Sighing, she moved to the next question. Where were you born? She swallowed hard. She couldn't remember anything about her childhood, her parents and siblings or if she even had any.

  Her eyes moved down to the next one. What is the last thing you can recall before your memory loss? She closed her eyes and thought hard. She couldn't remember a single thing before she woke up in the hospital except for one thing — Dr. Walker's voice. She remembered him talking to her often. She thought it was a dream until she awoke and found out that he was real.

  Dr. Walker had been by her side throughout her stay at the hospital, but he started keeping his distance when she moved to the facility. Her appointments with him became fewer and fewer, and he only visited her once in a while when he had another patient to check on at the facility.

  As she looked down at the paper, the letters blurred as tears sprang in her eyes. She slammed the pencil down on the paper, causing the pointed lead to break off and sail across the table.

  Daryl walked over to her. "Are you ready for the rest of your leg exercises?" he asked.

  "No," she whispered.

  He leaned closer, thinking that he misheard her. "Pardon me?"

  "No!" she yelled. She stood and limped around the table. "I'm done! No more!"

  "But, Jane —."

  "Don’t call me that! That's not my name!"

  * * *

  Jack was on his way to lunch when his BlackBerry buzzed in his coat. He fished the phone out of his pocket and answered it. "Hello?"

  "Dr. Walker, this is Patty over at the rehab center. There's something wrong with your patient, Jane Doe. My staff can't calm her down. What should we do?"

  "I'll be there in a minute. Don't do anything until I get there," he instructed. He ended the call and put the phone away. He jogged out of the hospital and to the neighboring building.

  Inside he heard people yelling. "Damn it, Jane," he muttered. He burst through the double doors and saw Jane cornered in the room by two physical therapists.

  Her light green eyes were wild with fear, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed. "Don't touch me!" she screamed as one man stepped towards her.

  "Jane!" Jack called.

  She looked up at him, and he stared at her. Her beauty was breathtaking. Over the past few weeks, the bandages had come off. The bruises had healed. Her skin was like porcelain — delicate and white. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and focus on the matter at hand. "What is going on?" he asked her.

  She was too upset to answer him. He looked at Patty, the receptionist. "Jane and I are going to lunch," he said. "We'll be back in an hour." He waited for Jane to walk over to him, and then held the door open for her as they walked outside. She had a limp from the broken bone that was healing in her leg, but the limp was getting better week by week. Her progress had truly been remarkable considering the condition she had been in when he first saw her.

  "Stay here," he ordered. "I'll bring my car around." As he walked through the parking lot, reality slowly hit him. He was taking one of his patients out to lunch. He cursed under his breath and muttered, "Yeah, like this won't look like preferential treatment and suspicious behavior."

  He jumped in the driver's seat of his car and pulled the car around to the front of the building. As he watched Jane climb into the passenger's seat, his apprehension about the preferential treatment slowly diminished. He wanted to help her, and he was sick of worrying about the consequences.

  He put the car in gear and drove out of the parking lot. Reaching over into the glove compartment, he pulled out a few napkins and handed them to Jane. "Here."

  She blotted the tears on her cheeks with the napkins. "Thank you," she muttered.

  After she calmed down a bit, he asked, "What happened back there?"

  She stared down at the knotted napkins in her hands. "I'm just…tired," she finally said.

  "Tired?" he asked, not fully understanding.

  "Tired of not knowing who I am. Tired of people calling me Jane. Tired of physical therapy." She stopped and her breath hitched. "What's the point of it all? After I am finished with therapy, what will happen to me then?" She held back a sob. "I have no family, no friends. I have no one."

  He looked over at her and caught her gaze. "You have me."

  She shook her head. "No, I don't." After a long silence, she whispered, "You've been so distant."

  He frowned. "Jane, it's not because I don't care for you. I have to be distant so that I don't lose my job. I thought you understood that." He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. "Let's eat."

  * * *

  Jack watched Jane carefully as she picked at the salad on her plate with her fork. Her second-hand clothes were too large and looked like they were going to swallow her up at any moment. She had lost a considerable amount of weight, and he was worried about her. He imagined that stress had a lot to do with it.

  It was difficult for him to be in close proximity to her. He had been trying to keep his distance, but not out of choice. Every time he saw her, his stomach did flips. For weeks, he had been carrying a consent agreement in his pocket for Jane to sign. It would release her from his care. The only thing that was holding him back was that he knew he was the best doctor to give her the best of care. On the other hand, he also wanted to get close to Jane without worrying about putting his job on the line.

  "How is therapy going?" he asked, making an attempt at chitchat.

  "Fine," she said simply.

  "You were doing so well. What happened today that set you off?"

  "I was trying to do the memory worksheet."

  He nodded. He was familiar with the questionnaire. "Things like that will be frustrating until your memory comes back."

  She looked up at him. "What if it never comes back?"

  He hesitated. "You have to think positively, Jane."

  After a few minutes of silence, Jane said, "There was one question that asked about remembering things before the memory loss. There is one thing I do remember before I woke up."

  He raised a brow, anxious for the information.

  "I remember hearing your voice in my dreams. At the time, I didn't have a face to put with the voice. You were the first one there when I woke up. When you spoke, I recognized your voice instantly."

  Jack slowly reached across the table and took her hands into his. "Every night at the end of my shift I would go into your room. I would talk to you, tell you about my day or even just talk about the weather. I knew that you needed someone to be there for you. And maybe, at the time, I really needed someone too." He swallowed hard. "You looked so peaceful, and you put my mind at peace at the end of a very hectic day."

  "You're more than my doctor, Jack. You're my only friend," she whispered.

  He closed his eyes for a moment. "It's been hard to keep my distance from you. I've wanted so badly to hold you and tell you that everything is going to be okay."

  A stray tear flowed down her porcelain cheek. Jack raised his hand and wiped the tear away. "Jane," he started, but didn't finish. He reluctantly pulled away from her. "I'm sorry. I'm crossing that line again."

  Jane nodded wearily. "I understand."

  Jack motioned to the waitress for the check. A few minutes later, the blonde waitress set the check on the table. Jack fished a fifty-dollar bill out of his wallet and told her to keep the change.

  He stood and offered his hand to Jane. She took his hand, and he helped her up.

  They left the restaurant and climbed into his car. The drive back to the facility was silent. Jack waited for Jane to say something, anything, but she stayed quiet in the passenger's seat.


  As he pulled the vehicle in front of the building. Jane quickly climbed out. Before he could say anything, she slammed the door and retreated inside the double doors.

  Jack sighed loudly. "I just wanted to tell you I was sorry," he said aloud. "And that I think I'm falling in love with you, Jane." The words surprised him as they came out of his mouth, but he knew they were true. He did love Jane, but he didn't know if he would ever get the chance to tell her.

  CHAPTER 8

  THE NEWSPAPERS CONTINUED to run articles about Jane asking for anyone with information to come forward. Local news stations and stations from the surrounding area had featured a few stories on television about her. Another month passed, and no one came forward. Inside, Jack was relieved. It's not that he didn't want Jane to find her family. That was the one thing he wanted for her. But he knew if she found her family, she would leave and he may never see her again. That thought scared him and kept him awake at night.

  He walked into the therapy center and stood outside the room watching Jane through the large glass window. She was doing leg exercises and talking with the physical therapist. The therapist said something, and Jane laughed. Even though Jack couldn't actually hear her laugh, he heard it in his mind. It was always a wonderful sound, and it caused him to smile.

  As he watched her go through her exercises, a thought crossed his mind. How could anyone not possibly come forward and claim her as their relative…or their wife? Jane was absolutely beautiful. Beyond her looks, she was smart, funny and had a great sense of humor. She was perfect.

  Ever since they ate lunch at the restaurant, Jack had been making excuses to visit the center more often and spend more time with Jane. He was careful to keep his emotions in check and prohibited physical contact completely. He enjoyed Jane's company, and he found himself slowly falling even more in love with her.

  "Are you going to stare at her all day or go in and talk to her?" a voice asked.

  Jack turned and saw an elderly man sitting in a chair reading a newspaper. Jack cleared his throat, nervously. "She — she's my patient," he stammered.