The Glow: Remastered; a draft

A Beginning

The world is dark before your eyes are open. Nothing is real, and you are suspended in the endless void. You have not yet confirmed the existence of anything in the space around you-- therefore none of it exists. Opening your eyes is all it takes for the world to come into focus and exist once again; that is, if you have existed long enough for again to be relevant.

She opens her eyes, blinking away the stars that appear over her vision as her eyes adjust to the harsh light shining down. She tests the movement of her limbs one by one. Toes, fingers, feet, hands, legs, arms, and the rest respond dutifully. Lifting her right hand, she studies it. First the palm, then the opposite side. There is a scar on the pinky side of her palm and she wonders lazily how it got there.

"Hello Marisol," croons a distinctly feminine voice. "How are you feeling?"

Marisol sits up, taking in the white walls, floor, and ceiling; before settling her gaze on a small grey-haired woman.

"I am feeling fine, thank you. Should I feel another way?"

"No, no, fine is a perfectly adequate way to feel." The woman smiles and her eyes crinkle at the edges in a way that indicates she does not smile often. There is no warmth in the woman so Marisol keeps her face placid, seeing no point in responding to a false expression. Her stomach rumbles and she looks down at it, surprised.

"I seem to be hungry." Marisol says, unbothered by how loudly her stomach had moaned.

The woman leads Marisol out of the white room and down a pristine hallway, patiently waiting as Marisol finds her balance and begins to walk. A glorious smell wafts into Marisol's nose, and she pauses to take it in.

"What is that I am smelling?"

"It's a food called Pizza."

"Pizza." Marisol repeats, considering. "I like pizza."

"You used to hate pizza."

"Did I?" thoughtful, "I must not have been very smart."

The remark makes the woman show real amusement. "You were certainly far less advanced!"

Marisol goes quiet to reflect on this new tidbit. She decides it is good to be far more advanced than she used to be, and that the past is irrelevant; She is, after all, a very advanced creature now and she need not remember a time when she wasn't.

The stool Marisol is directed to is cold, and she feels goosebumps rise on her legs. She is immediately distracted by the strange piece of greasy, cheesy, flatbread set before her. Instinctively, she brings it to her mouth and takes a large bite. The flavor fills her mouth and for the first time since she woke up, Marisol is happy.

After eating her fill of the delicious pizza, Marisol is directed to a spacious room, with an unnecessarily large set of glass doors leading to a balcony. In fact, one glance around the room shows excessive extravagance, and Marisol decides this is her new favorite place.

A voice chimes from an unknown source, "Please, make yourself comfortable for the next hour. Your schedule is free until your 3pm appointment with Dr. Rich. Say 'yes' to acknowledge."

"Yes." Marisol yawns, and decides that the best way to spend her hour is in the form of a nap, and the comfort of the overly soft mattress she encounters certainly does not convince her otherwise.

The world blinks out of existence as she closes her eyes.