4. Trapped

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Tears streamed down my face as I sobbed uncontrollably, my body shaking with convulsive gasps. The world around me was a blurred, fast-paced chaos, like a painting smeared by a wet brush. Suddenly, my sobs gave way to a blood-curdling scream, shattering the darkness.

I am running, ny legs pumping furiously as I sprinted towards a highway, its lights and sounds a chaotic blur. Horns blared around me - Beep, Beep, Beep - a cacophony of panic that seemed to come from all directions. And then, I saw it. A massive truck, its headlights blazing like demonic eyes, bearing down on me.

But I didn't move. I stood frozen, my eyes fixed on the truck, as if welcoming its impact. The horn blared one last time, a deafening warning, before the truck slammed on to me.

The sound of the crash was immense, a crushing blow that seemed to shatter everything. And then, silence.
.
.
.

I gasped for air, my heart racing like a wild animal. Sweat drenched my sheets, and tears still streamed down my face. My head throbbed with a vicious pain that threatened to consume me.

I reached for the water glass on my bedside table, my hand shaking slightly as I brought it to my lips. The cool liquid soothed my parched throat, and I felt my breathing slow.

As I set the glass back down, my gaze fell upon a black rectangular object on the table. A note lay next to it, with familiar handwriting that made my heart skip a beat. I picked up both, my eyes scanning the note's simple message: "This is your phone. Don't hesitate to call me. - Sancha"

I stared at the phone, feeling a sense of disorientation. I knew how to use a phone, but this one looked... different. The touchscreen seemed larger, the design sleeker, than the phone I remembered from six years ago. That one had been a touchscreen too, but smaller, more compact. This one felt foreign in my hand, like a strange, futuristic device.

I turned it over, studying it from every angle, trying to reconcile this new phone with the one I remembered. It was like seeing a familiar face with new features - everything was similar yet different.

I examined the phone, tracing the scratches and scuffs that crisscrossed its surface. Of course, it had been with me in the accident - that explained the damage. But as I tried to open it, I was confronted with a daunting prompt: "Enter Password".

My mind went blank. What was my password? I tried my birthday, but that didn't work. Any combination of numbers  that seemed familiar. But each attempt was met with a stern "Incorrect Password" message.

Frustration mounted as I tried again and again, each failure fueling my desperation. It was like trying to recall a forgotten language - I knew I once knew it, but now it was lost to me.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the phone flashed a message: "Try again in a few minutes". I slumped back against the bed, defeated. The past six years were a complete blur, and this phone was a relic from that lost time. I had no memory of buying it, using it, or setting a password.

Frustrated and defeated, I tried to muster the strength to get out of bed. Jy body felt weak and heavy, but I  was determined to stand up. I slowly swung my legs over the side of the bed and grasped the bedside table for support.

Using the table, then the wall, I  made my way to the door. I was alone in her hospital room, and I  hoped to find Sancha outside. As I  reached for the door handle, I  felt a surge of exhaustion, but I  pushed on.

I reached for the door handle, but before I could grab it, the door swung forward, opened from the other side. I lost my balance and fell onto the person who had opened the door. I landed against a solid chest.

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