Finding Life

Chapter two: Confusion

I woke up in a hospital bed, surrounded by an unsettling silence. The usual beeping of machines, the hum of distant voices, the rustling of papers—none of it was there. The room felt oddly empty, like I was the only person in the world. As I lay there, I tried to make sense of my surroundings. Something wasn't right.

I had been in a car accident. I remembered the impact, the way my body was thrown, the moment everything went black. But now, there was no pain. No aching muscles, no bandages, no signs of injury. I should've been hurting—so why wasn't I?

Confused, I reached for the call button beside the bed, pressing it repeatedly. The small red light blinked, indicating it was working, but no one came. The minutes dragged on, and the silence became suffocating. Anxiety crept in as I wondered why no nurses or doctors had shown up. Was I really alone?

Eventually, I couldn't take the waiting any longer. I needed to know what was going on. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I stood up, feeling strangely light on my feet. The hospital gown rustled softly as I walked toward the door, my bare feet making no sound on the cold floor.

When I reached for the handle, my hand passed right through it, as if the door wasn't even there. I stumbled back, heart pounding in my chest—or at least, I thought it was. Panic surged through me. What was happening?

Desperately, I tried again, focusing all my energy on grabbing the handle, but my hand slipped through it once more. My fingers felt nothing—no cold metal, no resistance. Just empty air.

My breath quickened as fear gripped me. I backed away from the door, my mind racing with questions I didn't want to answer. Was this a dream? A hallucination? Something worse?

I spun around and caught sight of a mirror on the wall. Slowly, I approached it, dreading what I might see. When I looked into the glass, I gasped.

The reflection staring back at me wasn't me—not the me I knew, at least. My skin was pale, almost translucent, with a faint glow around the edges. My eyes, once filled with life, now seemed distant, otherworldly. I flickered slightly, like I wasn't entirely there, and my form seemed to fade at the edges, as if I could disappear at any moment.

I looked like a ghost. Kinda like the ones from those cartoons I used to watch as a kid....

A wave of cold realization washed over me, sending a shiver down my spine—or what was left of it. My knees weakened, and I clutched the edge of the sink for support, though even that felt tenuous, like I wasn't fully connected to the world around me.

"Wait... does this mean I'm dead?"

The words trembled on my lips, barely a whisper. But the truth behind them felt like a weight crushing down on me. Was this really the end? Had I crossed over without even realizing it? I glanced back at the empty room, now feeling more like a tomb than a place of healing.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I tried to process what this all meant. Would I ever see my mom again? My friends? Or was I doomed to wander this empty, silent space forever?

I needed answers. I needed to know what had happened to me, what this place was, and if there was any way back. But with no one around and my body now seemingly unbothered from the physical world, I wasn't sure where to begin.

All I knew was that this—whatever this was—couldn't be the end. I refused to believe that this was how my story ended.