‘You’re in Danger,’ Police Officer Told Me When I Woke Up in the Hospital with No Memory — Story of the Day

I opened my eyes, immediately squinting against the bright light that made me want to close them again. After a moment, my vision adjusted, and I looked around, trying to make sense of where I was.

The sterile smell and white walls quickly told me I was in a hospital. My heart skipped a beat, and a wave of confusion washed over me. A police officer sat by my bed, his expression serious but calm.

Near the window stood a man, partially obscured by the sunlight streaming in, his face unfamiliar to me.

“Scarlett, you were in danger, but you’re safe now. Scarlett, can you hear me?” the officer asked. My throat was so dry that I could only nod. Speaking seemed impossible.

The man by the window turned around quickly, his face filled with concern, but I still didn’t recognize him. “Scarlett, you’re finally awake!” he said, stepping closer to the bed.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice shaky.

“It’s me, Ben. Your boyfriend,” he said gently. He took my hand, his touch unfamiliar. “The doctor said you might have some memory gaps from the head injury, but we’ll get through this together,” he added, kissing my hand.

“Do you remember who you are?” the officer asked.

“Yes, but it feels like there are gaps,” I replied.

“Do you remember how you ended up in the hospital?” he asked again.

I shook my head. “No, I don’t remember.”

The officer sighed. “A week ago, you reported that a man was following you. We couldn’t find evidence then. Two days ago, you called again, saying someone was chasing you. We believe you fell and hit your head while escaping, and the man fled. We found you unconscious.”

“I was unconscious for two days?” I asked, shocked.

“Yes, you were in a coma,” he confirmed.

Anxiety settled in my chest. Something about Ben didn’t feel right. What if he was lying about being my boyfriend? What if he was the one following me? I needed to speak to the officer alone. “Ben, could you give us a moment?” I asked, trying to stay calm.

Ben looked surprised but nodded. “Sure. I’ll step out,” he said, leaving the room.

I turned to the officer. “I don’t know why, but I don’t trust him,” I confessed. “What if he’s the one who was following me?”

The officer’s expression grew serious. “We’ve checked Ben thoroughly. He really is your boyfriend. It’s not unusual to feel unsure after a head injury.”

“But something doesn’t feel right,” I insisted, anxiety gripping me.

The officer pulled out a small piece of paper and wrote down a number. “Here’s my personal number. If anything makes you uncomfortable, call me,” he said.

I looked at the paper, feeling a small sense of relief. “Thank you,” I said. “What’s your name?”

“Officer Ryan,” he replied before leaving the room.

Ben returned, but the anxiety didn’t leave me. I kept glancing at the number Officer Ryan gave me. Something still felt off, and I knew I had to stay cautious.

A few days later, I was discharged from the hospital, but my memory still hadn’t come back. Ben drove me to what he said was our apartment. As we walked inside, I felt a strange familiarity and confusion.

The furniture, the decorations—they all seemed like things I would choose, but everything felt distant, like it belonged to someone else. Then, something caught my attention.

There were pictures on the walls and shelves—photos of me with my family, with friends, even some of me alone. But not a single picture of Ben and me together. It felt wrong.

“Don’t we have any pictures together?” I asked, looking around the room.

“Uh… no,” Ben replied, pausing for a moment. “They’d really help right now, wouldn’t they? But I’m not big on taking photos, so that’s why.”

“Okay… but it feels weird, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Ben said, his voice soft. “But we’ll work on it together. I’m here for you.”

I nodded, still unsure but not wanting to push it further.

“What do you want for dinner?” Ben asked. “I can make your favorite lasagna.”

“That would be great,” I replied, trying to convince myself I was overthinking. Ben knew my favorite food, after all, and he had been with me through this whole ordeal.

I called Officer Ryan and told him about the photos, explaining that Ben and I didn’t have a single picture together. It felt strange, and I needed to know if it was something to worry about.

Officer Ryan listened carefully and then told me not to jump to conclusions. He said it could be nothing, just a quirk of Ben’s, but he advised me to keep him updated on anything else that seemed off.

Later that evening, as we sat down for dinner, Ben started telling me the story of how we met. He said we were introduced by our mutual friend, Catherine. That struck me as odd.

I knew Catherine well, and she wasn’t the type to introduce people. She was more likely to tell you that men were distractions and that you should focus on your career.

Hearing this made me even more anxious. The doubt I had about Ben only grew stronger.

I decided to take the opportunity when Ben mentioned our friends. “I want to meet up with my friends later tonight,” I said, trying to sound casual. “You can come too.”

Ben’s expression changed slightly, and he shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I still have work to finish tonight, and the doctor said you should be resting this week.”

I tried to keep my voice steady as I replied, “It’s just coffee. Nothing will happen if I go out for a little while.”

Ben frowned, his tone firm. “Sorry, but no. It’s really better for you to stay home right now. They can come over tomorrow if you want.”

“When you’re at work?” I asked, my heart pounding a bit faster.

Ben hesitated, then said, “Maybe I can leave work early, or they might still be here when I get back.”

Earlier, I had texted my friends, asking if I was really dating Ben. I’d just received a reply. “Yes, Ben’s great!” Catherine wrote. “What kind of question is that? Of course, you’re dating; we even went to a baseball game together,” Stacey replied.

I decided to test Ben. “Do you remember when we went to the baseball game with Stacey?” I asked, watching his reaction closely.

Ben looked confused. “What? Did you remember something?” he asked, his voice cautious. “But we never went to a baseball game. You must be mixing things up.”

His response sent a cold shiver down my spine. The lie was so smooth, so casual, yet I knew Stacey wouldn’t make something like that up. I felt a deepening sense of dread, realizing that Ben wasn’t who he claimed to be.

Fear surged through me, and I knew I had to get out of there. Without thinking, I pushed back my chair and bolted from the table, heading straight for the front door.

Ben’s voice called after me, panic lacing his words as he tried to grab my arm, but I twisted away, my heart pounding in my chest. I yanked the door open and dashed into the hallway, slamming the door behind me.

My legs felt shaky, but I forced myself to keep moving until I reached the elevator. The moment the doors closed, I took a deep breath, my mind racing. When I finally made it outside, I didn’t stop running.

I heard Ben shouting my name from the window above, but I didn’t look back. When I was far enough away, I pulled out my phone, hands trembling, and called Officer Ryan.

“Hello? This is Scarlett,” I said, my voice shaking. “Ben isn’t my boyfriend. He’s the stalker.”

Ten minutes later, I found myself sitting in Officer Ryan’s car, tears streaming down my face as I sobbed uncontrollably. The fear was overwhelming.

“Everything will be okay,” Officer Ryan said gently. “You’re safe now. The police will catch him, I promise.”

Officer Ryan brought me to his home and quietly made some hot tea, the warmth of the cup helping to calm my trembling hands.

“You can stay here as long as you need,” he said.

“Thank you so much,” I replied, still trembling.

“It’s okay, Scar,” Officer Ryan said, trying to comfort me.

“Scar?” I asked, the nickname catching me off guard. “That’s what they used to call me in school.”

“Sorry if that upset you. I thought it was a pretty common nickname for your name.”

“No, it’s okay,” I assured him. “It’s just unusual to hear it again.”

He smiled warmly at me, and I felt a bit more at ease. But the calm didn’t last long. Outside, I noticed the sudden flash of police lights reflecting on the walls.

Officer Ryan glanced out the window and then quickly checked his phone, his expression unreadable. As he did, my eyes drifted to a pile of ropes and carabiners near the couch.

“What are those for?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m into rock climbing,” he explained casually.

“I used to do that in school too,” I said. “It was fun.”

“Yeah, it is,” he replied. “Scarlett, I’m sorry, but I need to step out for a bit. It’s work-related. If anything happens, call me immediately.”

“Of course.”

After Officer Ryan left the apartment, the fear that Ben might find me there crept back, stronger than before. As the minutes turned into hours, my anxiety grew.

I kept glancing at the door, half-expecting it to open at any moment. I tried calling Officer Ryan several times, but each call went straight to voicemail. To distract myself, I wandered over to a bookshelf, where a familiar yearbook caught my eye.

I pulled it out and flipped through the pages, my heart skipping a beat when I realized it was from my school. Officer Ryan’s photo was there; we had graduated in the same year. But his face sparked no memory.

Desperate for answers, I took a picture of his photo and sent it to my friends, hoping someone might recognize him. But the message remained unread. Just then, my phone rang—it was Ben.

His voice was calm yet threatening as he said he’d have to call the police if I didn’t respond. Panic surged through me. With Officer Ryan still not answering, I grabbed my things and headed straight to the police station, seeking safety.

I arrived at the station, spotted the first officer I could find, and hurried over to him. “Excuse me, is Officer Ryan here?” I asked.

The officer looked at me, puzzled. “Officer Ryan? We don’t have anyone by that name,” he replied.

Confusion washed over me. “What do you mean? He was at the hospital when I woke up after being chased by the stalker,” I insisted.

The officer shook his head, his expression firm. “Ma’am, we don’t have, and never had, an Officer Ryan.”

I stared at him, disbelief flooding my mind. “No, that’s impossible…” I stammered. I began to describe Officer Ryan, his appearance, his demeanor, everything I could remember.

The officer’s face shifted slightly as he listened. “You’re the woman who reported being followed, right?”

“Yes,” my voice barely a whisper.

“Come with me,” he said, gesturing for me to follow him.

I walked behind him, and he led me down a hallway to an interrogation room. My breath caught in my throat as I entered the room and saw another officer sitting at the table… and Officer Ryan… in handcuffs.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“We’ve found the man who was stalking you. He’s been on the run for a long time, but we finally caught him about three hours ago.”

“No, no, that’s impossible,” I said, panic rising. “Officer Ryan was helping me.”

The officer looked at me with sympathy in his eyes. “Ma’am, he’s not a police officer.”

At that moment, my phone buzzed. I checked it and saw a message from Catherine in response to the yearbook photo I had sent. “Yes, that’s Ryan. You turned him down for prom.”

And then another message from Stacey, “Oh, sorry! We went to the baseball game with your ex, not Ben.”

Suddenly, it all came rushing back, like a dam breaking in my mind. I remembered everything—how Ben and I had first started dating, the way he made me feel safe.

And then there was Ryan. He had been stalking me for months, always lurking in the background. His obsession had grown darker, more dangerous, with threats that he would take me away and never let me go.

The realization hit me hard—those ropes in his apartment weren’t for rock climbing; they were meant for me.