I really hate hospitals. The darn things are just creepy to me.

The guy who ended up being my doctor was not helping at all. As I recovered from my burns, he kept saying something about a “Medigun” and all sorts of ridiculous nonsense. In a German accent, no less.

The weirdest part was, when I asked for his name, he replied “Just call me ze Medic, Fräulein.” And he made it a point to ignore me if I ever asked again.

However, he did tell me how they found me. Apparently, my “boyfriend” was wanted in thirty states for murder, and he had been found by the authorities shortly before I fell asleep. They cut him open after his death and, after finding me alive but seriously burned, took me to the nearest hospital. But just my luck, this hospital was out in the middle of nowhere with literally one phone.

So of course my family didn’t know I was alive. I asked him how long I would be here.

“A few months, give or take.”

“SAY WHAT.”