THE DRY CLEANER'S MESS

CHAPTER 6

It was bright.

Too bright.

And all white too.

Arielle squinted and looked around the enormous room she was in. Everything was white. The walls, the window blinds, the furniture, the bedsheet, the duvet. Even her own cloth was white. The light coming in from the windows reflected on the colour, making everywhere uncomfortably bright.

Where was she?

Tubes were attached to her right arm and those tubes were connected to a drip bag or whatever drug was in that bag. A machine at the side of the bed kept beeping in an incessant, annoying way and she wanted to throw something at it to stop it from making that useless sound. Every few minutes, a whoosh noise filled the air and it came from a humidifier at the other wall. Aside from these sounds, the room was otherwise grave silent.

She wasn't in a hospital for sure. Hospital beds weren't king-sized and they definitely weren't this comfy. The bed was so soft it felt like quick sand. Anytime she tried to get up, it pulled her back in. The bed was too big to even be in a hotel. It had to be in someone's house.

But whose house was it?

She stopped her wandering thoughts and decided to rest. Regardless of whose house it was, she couldn't do anything at the moment so why stress about it? So she did the only thing she could at that point.

Sleep.

The next time she woke up, there was a new addition to the room. A white vase. It wasn't there before she slept. She cursed herself for sleeping and not meeting whoever dropped the vase. In the vase was a bunch of red roses. She wasn't a fan of flowers but she appreciated the gesture. She wrote a mental letter of thanks to whoever deemed it fit to introduce a little colour to the room. All those white was going to make her lose her mind.

But try as she may, she couldn't stay awake for more than a few minutes. At that point, she wasn't even sure it was fatigue anymore. There was probably sedative or tranquilizer in that drip bag. She fell in the depths of unconsciousness yet again.

There was a new vase on the table when she woke up. This time, it had yellow lilies in it. She wrote another mental letter of thanks to whoever was responsible. And that was how it went. Everytime she slept and woke up, there was a new vase with flowers of a different color. By the time the sun had gone down and the overhead lights were switched on, the whole table was a myriad of colours.

What on earth was going on?

She felt the urge to use the bathroom. Looking around, she only saw one door so there wasn't a bathroom in the room. She glanced at the tubes stuck in her inner arm. What was she supposed to do now?

"Hello, is anybody there?" Her voice was really weak, she'd be amazed if someone outside the door heard it. She tried again.

"Hello, is anybody there?" No answer. "Please I need help." Same response. "I need to use the bathroom."

She huffed in frustration. What should she do now? Looking at the bag the tubes were attached to, she saw it was a clear liquid. It was probably just drip. She wouldn't die if she took it out, right? She decided to pull out the tube. The needle had her wincing as she pulled it slowly. She threw the tube away and heard the needle clatter as it hit the floor.

Now all she had to do to walk to the door and open it. If it was locked, she'd bang on it. She tried to fling her left leg from the bed to the floor, but it was impossible. For some reason, she couldn't make her left leg perform the simple action. What on earth was going on? She tried with her right leg and the result was the same.