Stacey felt awkward and tired after all the medical tests and scans. The results had returned far more quickly than the medical systems back home. Almost immediately. She hugged her tummy while she listened to the doctor.
Everything had happened in a blur after the piano. More interview questions followed, but Stacey couldn't remember what she'd said—or if she'd said anything at all. The same went for the doctor's questions. She couldn't recall how she had gotten here, or how much time had passed.
"You may have suffered trauma," the doctor said. "Your brain could be protecting you by wiping most previous memories. Nothing serious physically—just some mild brain injury and low blood sugar. Mentally, you're anxious and stressed, but you're safe here. Eat, drink, and rest, and come back for a check-up in a few days. Ok?"
Stacey nodded.
"What's your earliest memory?"
"Just waking up alone under a bush outside town," Stacey felt the sweat trickling down her neck.
Making a believable lie was almost impossible for someone like her who was not a good liar. The best she could do was emphasise what she did remember and try to look lost for all the other questions.
Stacey hugged her tummy harder and wondered when they would get to eat. If they ever got to eat.
"Hmm," the doctor hummed to himself, checking his documents. "We'll take things as they are if you aren't making things up and lying to us. You realise that there's no point in lying to us, right? You'll get nothing out of it and it just makes our life more difficult. You're older than you look according to your bones. Less than twenty-five, I'd say, from your scans. My colleague reckons you must be at least eighteen to twenty years old, so we'll make a call and say you're nineteen for now. We'll tentatively put today as your birthday. How's that? At least until more of your memories come back or you're more willing to open up. You're safe here, ok? You know that right? Nobody can hurt you with us here."
Stacey could only stare at the doctor and continue to sweat while the nurse handed her a tissue to wipe the dripping sweat off. Despite Stacey's resistance, the nurse insisted on checking her for any signs of force or injury and reported the results to the doctor.
"Honestly, I'm inclined to think that the enemy or somebody has had you in captivity for the past few years and you escaped, but then I'd expect you to have remembered something of that and to have lost your virginity, which you haven't. Which is a good thing. Head trauma isn't the only thing that can make a person lose their memories. Very strong emotional trauma or a big fright can do that too."
Or Stacey could have just dropped in from another planet but didn't dare to say because to do so would put her at risk of being examined like a lab rat by curious scientists. She had no idea where she had gotten the mild brain injury from.
"The fact that you've discovered that you can't read and don't know any Tadpole points to the fact that you may have been brought up in an isolated community," the doctor continued in contemplation. "But then you can play the piano very well, showing that you must have had professional training," the doctor mused. "It's confusing. But then the brain and any brain injury is a confusing matter. We can only take things on an individual basis. I accept that you are lying to us about some things, but I also accept that you really have also had some sort of recent trauma that has possibly affected your memory and brain functions," the doctor examined Stacey's reactions to what he said. "Please feel free to come and find me when you are ready to open up."
Stacey dabbed at the sweat trickling down her temples and neck. Her back felt drenched. She didn't know if the doctor found what he was looking for in her expressions.
"For now, I will report according to the facts we have found. You have a mild brain injury of unknown origin and we suspect a history of previous assault or trauma although your physical health is otherwise largely intact," the doctor said. "That is, outside of the recent lack of food and sleep associated with your current homeless situation. The same can't be said for your mental health and memory. There are things you ought to know like common items and personal information but don't or can't seem to recall. You are very anxious and stressed. Possibly mildly depressed. You probably need to eat something and get a good sleep. Hopefully you'll gain a sense of security here in the program and be able to relax. Come back for a check up in a few days, ok? Let me know how you're coping. I understand from what you've said that everything is a bit new. You have absolutely nothing to fear unless you're an enemy spy."
That didn't help Stacey calm down or settle her nerves at all. What if they really thought she was a spy?
"Protect your virginity until you get married," the nurse told Stacey. "It's very important for girls to look after themselves and respect your body. Nobody else will do it for you."
Stacey didn't understand why the nurse would say such things to her or seem to believe that she'd be willing and ready to sell her body. Unless she was misunderstanding things? It seemed so random.
Ken and Endo met her outside the clinic doors.
"Come on. The first assembly's about to start. They sent us to get you," Ken said. "How are you feeling?"
"Hungry," Stacey said firmly. "Very hungry."
"You didn't have lunch?" Ken asked in concern.
"There was lunch?" Stacey grabbed his arm tightly. "I missed lunch? I only came here for the free food and you're telling me I missed the first meal?"
"Owowow," Ken pried her fingers off his arm. "Let go. That hurts. We'll get you something to eat later. Put up with it for now, ok? We have to join the assembly first."
Stacey was feeling lightheaded and annoyed now. Her hunger pangs were making themselves felt again, now that Ken had mentioned lunch.
She'd missed lunch. The checkup had taken so long she'd nearly nodded off. Now they wanted her at some boring assembly? All she wanted was food. Just food and water. Was that too much to ask?
"Here, have a seat," Ken sat her down beside him and Endo. Ken sat at her left and a blonde haired boy was on her right.
Stacey hadn't even realised when they had entered the room. Noise hit her all at once, jostling her senses. The world pressed in on her in a riot of colour and sound. Boys sat around her, voices and laughter colliding. She guessed the girls were on the other side, where the higher-pitched chatter cut through the chaos.
"Hey, Ken, what's with the girl? Is she deaf or something? She's not responding. She looks a bit pale," a boy with blonde hair leaned past Stacey to ask Ken.
"Stacey? Hey. You ok?" Ken shook Stacey by the shoulders.
"What?" Stacey blinked, trying to focus. Words felt slippery in her head.
"You're kind of out of it."
"Am I?" Stacey asked, hugging her tummy. Her stomach twisted and gurgled. "I'm starving. When is this thing gonna be over?"
"She was getting her medical checkup done and missed lunch," Ken explained.
"Oh. Your blood sugar must be low or something," the blonde boy beside her shouted above the noise in order for her to be heard. "I'm Flail."
"Stacey," Stacey nodded at him.