Oile: A humbling thought

A few terrifying hours and two healing spells later, they jammed me into the guarded hospital bed at Saint Kistho. Helpfully, they bound my arms to the sides of the bed with leather straps to keep me "safe". In reality, it was because they were afraid I would suddendly grab a knife and start stabbing all those nurses and doctors running around. I didn't have the heart to tell them I only kill the insane women in my life. Well, woman. Bonnie was my first in so many ways, murder being one of them.

The cuffs or the straps didn't stop me from picking up two pens from the front desk and some needles from the healing mage. Not sure why I did it, but I hate this feeling of helplessness and boosting things gave me back a little control. The two guards really don't help. The big one's hands really hurt when he jammed his thumbs into the joint in my shoulder and told me, in that special voice only shared between authorities and criminals, that I will burn for killing that "pretty girl".

I'm still trying to piece together how I ended up in bed with a dead woman.

Then, like schools and courts, I had to wait. Long enough that I really had to pee, but no one really seemed to care about that. A couple hours later, I gave up counting the lines in the wood ceiling and moved to imaginging pictures from the whorls of the plaster just as the healing mage came in. Behind him, another pair of guards, one of them with the big fance badge that said he was important.

"Oile... do you have a first name?"

"Yes," I murmerered, "Oile."

An eyebrow raised, "What is your last name?"

I just shrugged, didn't really want to talk about it. The healer gave up after a few moments, then cleared his throat.

"Look, you need to hear this."

He turned back to the captain of the guards.

"Sir, here is the catalog of injuries of your suspect. Mis... Mr. Oile was shot with three bullets and two crossbolts from the city guard. He had four bullet wounds from a small caliber weapon-"

As he spoke, I got flashes of when Bonnie shot me. The first time was in the living room, while we screamed at each other. Another in the kitchen and the other two on the stairs as we struggled upstairs.

"-and five shallow stabbings and one deep cut from a short knife-"

The kitchen again, she was nasty with that carving knife of hers.

"-excluding multiple defense cuts on his forearms and shoulders. I also found some broken bones in his foot."

I winced at the memory of when Bonnie smashed my foot with her wrench. That was in the living room, but I couldn't quite place when. The captain didn't look at me, but the large guard smirked at my injures. I really didn't want to be reminded that Bonnie beat the crap out of me. I mean, she trashed me so hard, I could barely remember that one, desperate stab that actually killed her.

Then that nagging voice in my head.

I don't remember actually killing her. I don't have any memory after that last stab.

And where did those flowers come from? They were, very distinctly, not in my memory.

The captain listened for the rest of the report, then finally let his eyes slide over to me.

"Can he go to trial?"

The mage nodded curtly, then cleared his throat again.

"I need him to remain here for the night, for observation and final recovery. He needs two more low powered healing spells every three bells to finalize the healig process. You can move him right after the last one."

The captain grunted, "Charge it to his account."

"Of course."

From the response, I have a feeling that my legal account was about to get very, very expensive. There are days when I hate our court system.

Irrationally, I was also terrified of waking up in this room. It had white walls and was very clean. And... when I wake up... I'm going to be in just as much trouble as the last one.