This is the basic beginning of the plot of my story. The first chapter was just a short description of characters, nothing too specific, but I recomment quickly reading it, before you go through with chapter two.

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Chapter Two – What, where, when?


I was passed out on the bed with nothing but my shirt on. I was exhausted and I awoke the next day…
‘Man, I must have finished off a dozen bottles of vodka’. My head felt like I had been with Rocky in the ring for ten rounds. The light was so painfull, I couldn’t open my eyes. Faded sounds started to get inside my head and everything had a powerfull echo. I thought I recognised voices, but I couldn’t understand any of the words said. There was a repeating sound. Beep, beep, beep. ‘Oww, turn it off..’ I squeezed from between my parched lips.

‘Is he..?’ first words I could make out. My head was getting clearer and clearer. There must have been a few people in the room. I tried opening one of my eyes, but the light was too bright and a sudden pain shot through my head. As my body was coming back to life, I felt pain. And lots of it. My head mostly, but also it felt like my ribs had been crushed and some minor pain all over. I tried to open my eye again and this time my effort was met by some succes. My vision was blurry at best, but I immidiately relised that this room, was not the room I fell asleep in.

I wanted to sit up, but someone told me to relax and that I shouldn’t move. With the pain in my ribs, I thought it was a good idea. ‘How are you feeling?’ a familiar voice said. It must have been my dad. ‘I..um..not so great. It hurts.’ I mumbled. ‘Don’t worry, you’re in the hospital. You’ve been seriously injured. Lie still’ another voice said. I didn’t recognise this one. After a while, my eyes adjusted. I could make out the room. Small, lots of machines and the bed looked even worse that it felt under my back.

The doctor that spoke to me was a middle aged man, round face, wore those old fashioned glasses. His name was McLurcan. He told me I was in an accident, hit by a car. I couldn’t remember a thing. How did I get out in the street? After a while of talk about medicine and such crap they he left me in the room and my dad stayed. He asked me how I was feeling and then asked me what happened. ‘What do you mean? I don’t remember a thing.’ I was really puzzled. ‘What is going on?’ Dad looked at me, worried and said: ‘When talking to the doctor, you said you went to sleep at Steve’s. The party you went to was on Saturday. Today is Wednesday. You’ve been gone for three days.’ My brain just couldn’t come to grips with this. I didn’t remember a thing. Three days missing.