I exist. I know I must, because it hurts. I am in darkness. I should open my eyes but I am afraid. I take a breath for courage and open my eyes. It is white. Everything. I am lying on a white bed, in a small white room. Even the bedposts are white.
Who am I? I look down at my body. I am wearing plain white. I believe I am female.
I want to stand. I feel so heavy. I clench my fists. I will stand. I grit my teeth. Get. Up. I manage to heave my body into a sitting position. My head. It is pounding. My heart is racing. My chest is heaving.
I look around the room. There is nothing. Wait. There is a woman looking at me. She looks terrified. Wait. I frown. She frowns. We lift a hand to meet. Glass. A mirror. Is that what I look like? I watch the woman suspiciously. She stares back, unsure.
Who am I? I have dark brown hair that falls in waves past my shoulders. I think my large, round eyes are green, though I see a hint of brown as well. My face is long and narrow, as is my body. My head hurts. I have a large, deep wound that traces from my forehead to well within my hairline. It has been stitched up. I am nobody I can remember.
My door handle creaks. I turn hastily, startled. My door opens.
"Our sensors told us you were up." The stranger in white smiles. "Welcome back to the land of the living."
What...? I have opened my mouth to speak, but no sound has come out.
The strangers eyebrows rise in apparent sympathy.
"This building doesn't allow patients to speak, I'm afraid." She explains as she taps a strange white device at her throat. "Staff only."
I scowl at the device. I want my voice back.
"Don't worry," She chuckles, "I'm sure they'll let you speak when the time is right."
I do not like this lady. I want to get out of here.
"You've been in this room long enough," she seems to understand, "let's get you outside, shall we?"
I like this idea. I look behind her but I cannot see, my eyes are blurry. I raise a hand to my aching head. I falter.
The woman in white disappears for a moment before reappearing with a wheelchair.
"This will make life a little easier for you, I think." She says cheerily.
I do not want to sit in the chair, but as I try to stand, I stumble. I sigh, and take the seat.
"See now?" She says, as if to a child. "Just use these controls, like this, and it will take you wherever you want to go."
With one last reassuring smile, she leaves. Now I am alone. Now I'm not sure I want to leave this room. I look around. It is so cold and empty. Surely outside can't be worse than this. I press the chair forward. Outside has to be better than this.
I am in a big, white hallway. There are two directions to choose from, left or right. I don't know which way to go. The woman in white seems to appear from nowhere.
"You want to go that way, dear." She points to the right.
I turn the chair right and follow the passage until I come to a large white room. It is full of people gathered around small, white tables. Some are sitting on chairs, some are in wheelchairs like me. They are tracing their fingers along the surface of the tables, engrossed.
"There you are." A stranger approaches me, he too is wearing the strange white device at his throat. "They told me you were up. Welcome back."
I frown at him. Do I know him? Have I known him? Something is wrong with me. How long have I been here? Why can't I remember?
The stranger in white regards me for a moment before speaking again.
"We made a space for you over here." He guides me to a spot at a table.
There are four other people around this table, two are male and two are female. On the table is an empty white image, with thin black lines creating unfamiliar shapes. The others are colouring it in. I turn to the man. Is this what they want me to do?
"You select a colour here," He explains, whilst showing me a panel of colours that seems to be part of the surface of the table. "And move your finger over the area you want to colour."
He demonstrates. Does he think I am stupid? Why does he want me to colour this picture in?
"Just do it." He encourages. "It will make you feel better."
I don't want to colour it in. I survey the room. Everyone else is colouring. I have nothing better to do. I guess it can't hurt.
I select the purple colour. I do not know what this image is meant to be, and I don't care. I start to fill the empty white space with purple. I study my silent companions. All of them are wearing white. All their necks are bare like mine. Why are we here? Are we being punished for something? Their faces are completely expressionless. I feel uncomfortable. I take another look around the room.
I meet a pair of eyes. Brown eyes. They are focused on me. He is not sitting. He leans against the wall. He is also in white. His neck is also bare. He is smiling. Why is he smiling? He seems very happy. He appears to know me. I frown. Do I know him? His face falls. Now he looks sad. Is it my fault he is sad? I can't remember him.
I am still staring at him. His eyes are searching mine. Kind brown eyes. It was nice to see him smile, but now he seems so sad. Is it my fault?
My heart is pounding in my chest. It hurts. My head hurts too. I can't breathe. I can't breathe.
YOU ARE READING
NAMELESS
Science FictionCOMPLETED "I exist. I know I must, because it hurts." She wakes up in a small, white room. She remembers nothing. If you can't remember, and you can't ask, how can you know who you are?