I woke up about twenty minutes ago.
My eyes are still crusty from sleeping, and I rub them.
The past twenty minutes has been used by me staring up at the ceiling, again.
I need to somehow find out the answers to all my questions.
It's like my questions are haunting me and my dreams.
But I need to know all the answers.
I don't think the answers will magically appear in front of me.
Maybe, they might, but I don't think they will.
Everything in this room is pure white, apart from a couple of coloured things on the tables and the cushions on the armchairs.
White isn't a colour.
From my broken memories, white is a shade, so is black.
I always thought that white and black were colours because an object could be coloured black or white.
My skin is white.
Almost white, apart from the red, purple and brown cuts and bruises and god-knows-what all over me.
I roll over and see someone sleeping in the bed, the bed next to my bed.
Messy brown hair, pale skin, covered in cuts and bruises like I am.
I see that the person is wearing a white dress-like thing.
I looks at my own clothes, just as I thought.
I'm also wearing a white dress-like thing, a hospital gown.
Or something like that.
I feel sore again, but decide to just try to fall asleep again so I don't feel the pain.
Actually, the pain won't let me fall asleep.
My head feels like it's getting smashed with a hammer on both sides.
I don't think that's normal for my head to feel like that.
I can't see any medicine, on the table near the door or on the side-table next to my bed.
I feel like I should yell out for the doctors, so they can get some medicine for me.
But my throat is sore, and I'm not even going to try to talk, or yell for that matter.
I try to sit up, for the first time in this hospital, or wherever I am.
The pain in my back spreads into my whole body and I freeze from the pain.
I eventually sit up against the headboard of the bed, breathing heavily from all the effort it took for me to finally sit up.
The room I'm in is like a rectangle, with three beds, a table near the door, a large window above the second bed, and some armchairs in one of the corners of the room.
I just sit there for a while, taking it all in and trying to sort out everything in my brain.
Not that I really have much in my brain.
I don't have any of my personal memories.
Just memories like what stuff is and things like that.
I'm hungry.
I can't think straight because I'm starving.
Which actually makes sense, since I haven't eaten in a while.
But I don't know how or when I'm supposed to eat.
Maybe, just maybe, a doctor will come in and I can ask for something to eat.
I know yelling and screaming is out of the question.
I'll have to wait again, for someone to come.
That's my only option at the moment.
I hate waiting.
