Abditory [H.S]

81

Luella Jones

Beeping.

Voices.

Heart beats.

My ear registers those sounds at first.

Something covering my body.

A familiar touch in my hand.

I notice my sense of touch is still there.

Chemicals.

Perfume.

That's all what my nose smells.

I can't see anything but the back of my eyelids, and I only taste the dryness in the back of my throat. I'm so thirsty, I could drink a whole gallon of water.

I try to open my eyes, but it seems that my brain refuses to do such act. I feel like I've slept for years. Yet, I feel more tired than usual. There's a slight discomfort in the lower region of my back, and my head still hurts, but not too much to not handle.

I try to swallow as well, ending up panicking for moment before actually doing so. I breathe heavily through my nose, my chest rising up and down normally.

"She should be awake any minute now." A strange voice says, and I'm still trying to figure out my place.

I try again to open my eyes, fluttering them an inch away before blinking. As soon as they catch on the light in the room, I'm shutting them in discomfort and furrowing my eyebrows.

"Turn the lights down." The same voice says.

After a minute or so, I am able to open my eyes, relaxing my eyebrows that have started a headache against my forehead.

I swallow again, wanting so bad to drink.

"Are you alright, Miss Jones?" They ask.

"Water." I get out, shutting my eyes again from the pain that I recieve from holding them open too much.

"It seems she has the extreme thirst symptom. Grab her some water." As they order whoever else is in the room to get me my water, I recognize the smell around me. It's almost like a hospital one.

God, I hate hospitals.

"Miss Jones, can you open your eyes for us?" He informs me but I am no near completing that task.

"It hurts." I state, feeling a small pressure at the top of my eyes.

"You need to try." He assures me.

I sigh softly, gathering all the strength I have that can open them. The first thing I see again is white. White blankets, white walls, a white man in a white coat. That's definitely a doctor. And I'm definitely in a hospital bed.

The corner of my eyes catches another figure, turning my head slowly to see another white man. This one, however, has bags under his eyes, a worn-out look on his face, and a tired expression. He gently holds my hand, and I am just realizing the cold sensation the rings he's wearing and the way they effect my warm skin.

He's looking at me, probably questioning whether I'm actually looking back at him or not. I turn my head to the opening of a door, a young lady who seems like a nurse walking in with a water bottle.

I immediately wanna sit up and kiss her pretty hands when she gives it to me, smiling softly at my condition.

I have no problem sitting up, screwing the cap off the bottle and drinking it fully and fast.

"Miss Jones, do you recall your last events of being awake?" The doctor whose name I don't know asks.

I put the bottle on the small table beside me, thinking about his question.