Despite growing up together, Catherine Simmons and Mattis Reed were never close.
Cat was inseparable from Mattis' younger sister, Chloé, while he was busy running around on the football field.
But when Cat's new dream drags her across the country du...
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Beep.
My alarm is ringing. Why is it ringing now? Is it morning?
Beep.
It can't be morning. I'm not rested at all like I only just went to sleep. My whole body is heavy, and my mind is so hazy I can't even manage to open my eyes.
Beep.
My God that is an annoying sound. Has it always been so annoying? Why does it keep ringing? I can't seem to remember what day it is or why I need to wake up at this ungodly hour.
Beep.
I'm groggy. I think maybe I should have a headache, but I just feel strangely numb. Numb and disorientated.
Beep.
I will throw that damn alarm clock out the freaking window if it continues. With extreme willpower, I finally locate my eyes and pry them open.
I fully expect to find myself in the dark of my bedroom, but I'm assaulted by bright light instead. So bright I have to squeeze my eyes shut. I await the physical reaction to this surprise: my heartbeat picking up and my breathing quickening, but nothing happens like my body can't seem to get it together to care.
I crack one eye and survey my surroundings. It's white. Where are all the colors? The layout of the room is wrong too, the window is on the opposite side than I'm used to, and the door is on my left instead of by the foot of the bed. The bed is too small as well. This is most definitely not my room.
Beep.
Oh my God, I will literally drown my phone if that's what it takes.
With a movement that shouldn't have been that exhausting, I turn my head and look at the setup next to the bed. Instead of finding my phone blaring away, a machine makes consistent, slow, beeping noises.
And just like that, my groggy brain makes a leap in understanding, and suddenly I know exactly where I am, the memories rushing back.
The bathroom.
Mattis.
Fainting.
The blood.
My body gets the memo this time, and my heart starts racing while my breathing strains.
Oh no. I can't do this again. I try sucking in the rapidly decreasing oxygen, and the machine beside me picks up on my unease, the beeping accelerating.
I try remembering the methods for fighting off panic attacks. I'm supposed to describe my surroundings. Okay, I can do that.
I'm in a hospital room. That much is clear now. It's a single room. There is a heartbeat monitor beside the bed, reminding me that I am freaking the fuck out.
