01| 𝙰 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔

589 24 15
                                    

SUMMER BLAKE

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

SUMMER BLAKE

The first thing I see is light. and not just any ordinary light but the type of light that any normal sane person would hate waking up to.

Blinding lights.

What I now realize are Hospital lights.

My body aches and my head is pounding. almost as if every part of my body has been attached to 200-pound weights.

I try sitting up but fail causing a distressed groan to escape my mouth.

I had been in a coma and I had heard everything. Even some things I didn't want to hear, things I refuse to believe were true. I was thankful amnesia wasn't my case.

Although there was one thing I wish I could completely forget.

How it all happened.

Chills coat my body just at the mere thought of the accident.

I don't ever want to think or talk about it.

I snap out of my trauma-filled trip to memory lane and try moving my body again.

I just needed to give my body more time to warm up since my joints felt stiff. like the feeling, you get when you sit in one place for too long.

I crane my neck from side to side, observing my environment.

I see a digital clock with the time that states 2:45 pm

Then I see a sign on the door of the bright hospital room that says "visiting hours 2:00 pm to 3:00 pm"

Maybe they're just late or they may have already come.

I take another look around the room and it is too neat. Almost as if nobody hardly ever comes into this room.

Then I see a sign-in log that confirms my sad yet accurate theory.

The last person who had been in here signed out on July 18, 2021, and according to my memory, my accident happened on January 2, 2021.

Today is now January 6, 2022.

In total, a year had passed and I haven't received not one visitor in months.

My last visitor had been my mom Anastasia Blake. Although I already knew she was the last person to come visit me because I remember hearing her voice most recently.

But the hard truth is nobody is here to visit me. Not my friends or even my brothers, sisters, or mother. Not just that but it's been months since they've even visited this particular room.

If you're wondering about my father then he's dead and I was prepared to join him that night.

I expected the voices I had heard in my head to be waiting for me once I had woken up but the hospital room remains cold and empty.

𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙨𝙚.Where stories live. Discover now