Medical staff didn't actually give a fuck about you. They just wanted you to hurry up and get out of their beds so they could give them to someone else. Except when they didn't understand you. Then they wouldn't go away.

Apparently it was a 'miracle' that I survived. I'm not sure how the word miracle can be applied to a train crash, but that's what the doctors said. One of the paramedics said they thoroughly checked my carriage (or where my carriage should have been) and there were no signs of life. Until I sat up.

I've been injected, prodded and scanned in every way possible in the last few hours. I'd been asleep before then, so God only knows what they were doing to me when I couldn't protest. They told me I was in perfect health, which they can't make any sense of. The policeman said (and I quote) 'He should've been torn to pieces like the rest of them.' Way to be sensitive.

The doctors finally stopped bugging me when they realised I was going to be of no help to them, because I didn't know why I survived either. I don't know what they were expecting, I'm not the one with a degree in medical science am I? The police however didn't stop pestering me, no matter how many times I said 'I dunno'. They didn't seem to care that I'd lost all my best mates-

Be strong. You're not going to cry in hospital where everyone can see you.

-today (was it yesterday now?). They just wanted to fill in their stupid little forms so they could go home. All I could tell them was that I saw the train crashing and that there was a lot of fire. I felt stupid, but what was I meant to say? God appeared in front of me and said 'THY SHALT BE IMMORTAL!'? I don't know what happened, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't the power of God that saved me. God wouldn't have let the train crash in the first place. Or even if He had, why save me? I'm no one special.

They called my parents after I came to in hospital. I've never seen my mum's face so pale as it was when she walked in. Or, to be honest, so confused. I think she was expecting me to be wired up and in a full body cast, not sitting up prodding lumpy hospital food (I think it was meant to be porridge). Even so, as soon as my mum reached my bed she burst into floods of tears, forcing me into a suffocating hug. I couldn't help but let a few tears of my own escape then. I don't know what caused them. Tears of relief because my mum was there? Shock? Guilt? Sorrow? Anger?

My emotions were too overpowering right now to sort out. They was just one indistinguishable mush of feelings that made me want to curl up into a ball and hide from the world. I couldn't differentiate between what I physically felt and what was going on emotionally. My brain was in turmoil, spitting out fragments of phrases and images that were disjointed, and disturbing. No one sleeps peacefully after something like this.

"My baby," whimpered my mum, through thick tears. If it had been any other day, in any other situation, I would've yelled at her for that. But instead I let her draw me close. No matter how embarrassing something was right now, I wasn't going to feel it. There were way too many stronger emotions whirring around my mind to mask it.

"I'm okay," I said quietly. Was it a lie? Of course it was. But physically, I was okay.

No cuts, no bruises... nothing...

But mentally, whatever wall I had built to block everything out was crumbling. Life would never be the same again.

The End

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