You don't need to explain what the butterfly effect is to Lando Norris because with one single change of events, the love of his life forgot all about him and their 3 year relationship.
3 years;
36 months;
156 weeks;
1095 days;
26,280 hours;
All gon...
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I do not recall having a single bed.
My eyelids flutter, but the light in my room is too bright to open them completely.
I do not recall not having closed my curtains last night; I usually always close them before going to bed.
I try opening my eyes again, I do not recall my walls ever being this shade of blue, or any shade of blue for that matter.
The little beeps next to my head get louder and clearer. I try moving my head to see where the god-annoying sounds come from, but an aching pain forcing its way through my skull stops me from moving my head. I close my eyes in the hope the pain will subside.
At the slowest pace ever, I roll my head and carefully open my eyes again.
There is a guy in my room.
My throat is dry, and I try to swallow and lick my lips to be able to move them. But nothing happens. Instead, I hear a door open and someone else walking in. It better be my mom sending him away because no boys were allowed until age 20.
But I don't recognize the woman dressed in dark blue clothes, who walks up to the sleeping boy and softly wakes him up.
"I am sorry, young man. But you really have to go back to your room now."
He nods without saying something and then looks at me. I quickly close my eyes and hear a loud gasp.
"Her eyelids flinched," He says. "I swear I saw her eyelids flinch."
"I will check it out when you are back in your room, okay? Come on, you can't sleep here."
I hear footsteps and a door closing. Then silence. If you ignore the damn beeps.
Where am I? Because one thing is absolutely clear, I am not in my own bedroom in my house.
"Hi there," I recognize the woman's voice and slowly open my eyes. The lights are still overwhelming my senses, so I squint them together.
The unknown woman dims the lights, "Can you tell me your name?" She asks.
I try to gather saliva and swallow, another attempt to make my throat less dry. The woman understands my little hint and quickly grabs a bottle of water, "There you go. Take it easy."
My throat already feels better with a few little nips, "Aurora... Banks," I say softly.
"Okay, Aurora. I am Nurse Jesslyn," She introduces herself. "You are in Sint Boniour Hospital; you've been in an accident."
