The light was bright shining in my eyes. I attempted to blink it away, which of course, did not work. There seemed to be a fog in my mind that clung, making it difficult to understand what was going on. For a while, I simply lay in the brightness, hoping the fog away out of my mind. Eventually, I was able to think more coherently, and found the ability to sit up.
I appeared to be in a plain white simple hospital room. I had wires, and tubes stuck to me. I stared around, straightening my arm to scratch at the tape over the ache in my arm. There I discovered a drip going directly to my vein. It explained the cold sensation I was experiencing in my arm.
The room was so silent in the incessant brightness, aside from the quite hum of the machines beside me. My legs felt quite weak and rather trapped in the tightly made bed I had apparently been sleeping in. I tugged at the blankets and sheets, trying in vain to loosen them, either because the bed was made so tight, or I simply lacked the strength in my arms, that my legs seemed to lack. I could see the bones of my wrist quite clearly.
Then, I noticed a plain sealed envelope on the bedside table by me. I leaned over carefully, trying not to pull off any wires or tubes, as they all seemed important. After some pathetic tugging by fingers that couldn’t quite do as they were told, and some helpful teeth, I managed to tear the envelope open. The words inside were simple, but created so many more questions…
It’s all a lie. Don’t believe it. Not even your memories.
The first question I wanted to know the answer to was: what memories? I had none.
That’s when the door opened, and some medical professionals rushed in followed by my frazzled looking brother, husband, and daughter.
You awake from a coma to an empty room and a sealed envelope.