Fall II

I tripped

and fell on my face. I wasn't drunk or tired. I just tripped, just fell. I broke my nose, knocked out two front teeth, and lost consciousness. I woke up in the hospital. A pretty nurse was bustling around beside me.

"Where am I?" I asked casually, because I knew the answer well. It's always like this in movies: when someone wakes up from a coma, they ask where they are. I asked too.

"You're in the hospital, someone beat you up," the nurse replied.

"What do you mean, beat you up? I tripped!"

I guess she didn't hear me. She left. After a while, my girlfriend, to whom I was engaged, came to see me.

"You look like a criminal! Who did you fight with again? If you think I'm going to marry a thug, you're dead wrong!" She got up and left, indignant.

I was particularly surprised by the question, "Who did you fight with again?" Why did she say "again"? I've never been in a fight, especially not today. A few minutes after the girl who wasn't mine left, my dear mother entered the room with a nurse.

"That's not my son," my mother whispered quietly to the nurse.

Fortunately, I heard everything.

"Mom, it's me, Marek, your son!" I shouted as best I could.

My mother looked at me, recognized me, and with tears in her eyes, screamed.

"Jesus Christ, I raised a bandit!" she ran out crying.

I didn't know what this was all about. They wouldn't even let me explain. The nurse looked at me with contempt and left again. But not for long. After a few minutes, she returned, but not alone.

"These gentlemen are from the police, they want to talk to you," the woman informed me, and left for the third time.

There were two policemen.

"Do you remember who beat you? How many were there? What did they look like?" one of them asked.

"No one beat me, I tripped and fell," I replied, irritated. "Don't be afraid to testify," said the second policeman. "You're safe. Tell the truth. We'll catch those bastards and put them behind bars."

I was tired of all this. My girlfriend left me, my mother disowned me. For peace of mind, I gave them made-up, detailed descriptions of the two attackers. I described how I was coming home from work and was attacked and robbed. The police officers promised they would do everything in their power and left, wishing me a speedy recovery.

For two days, no one came to see me. Only a nurse brought me food and medicine. Not the pretty one anymore. Different. A bit uglier. Apparently, the other one was afraid I'd hurt her, that I'd slap her on the butt, or even worse.

Two days later, I saw familiar faces at the entrance. The police officers who had been handling my case.

"You can rest assured now," one of them said. "We caught the bandits who attacked you. They've confessed to everything. When you recover, you'll come with us to the police station. You'll just have to confirm it was them. Just a formality."

I nodded.