The Nibiru Effect

Memory 14

I awake in a white room. The ceiling, the walls, the floor; everything is white. Even the bed upon which I lay is white.

I stand up and walk around. The first thing I notice is the lack of pain. My ankle no longer hurts. I rotate my foot, but it feels fine. The second detail I take into account is the fact that the shrapnel-induced cuts that once riddled my body are gone. I now wear a plain t-shirt and soft, cotton pants. Of course, both are white.

"That's odd," I mutter. I expect my voice to sound hoarse, but the truth is I feel great. That is until I notice my ring is missing. Panic momentarily grips me, but it evaporates when I remember Salt 'n' Pepper took it. This allows me to focus on more pressing matters.

Where am I?

I look for a way out, but there is none. No door. No window. Only walls, a floor, and a ceiling, all of which are coated with a thin layer of white foam. Even the bed frame is padded.

I don't know where I am or what's going on, but this forced isolation allows me to process the insanity of the past few hours—or has it been days? It takes a while, but I eventually come to the only logical conclusion.

I'm in a mental hospital.

The padded nature of the room now makes sense. As does the whiteness. And the total and utter lack of injuries.

I'm insane.

I should be worried, but the truth is I welcome the revelation. It soothes me. The insanity of my recent past now makes sense. Still, a lingering doubt persists.

The hourglass symbol. Is it still there?

I glance at my wrist.

"Dammit!"

It's still there.

How can this be? It can't. It isn't.

"It's not real," I mutter."I'm crazy." I repeat this last part overand over again until I believe it with every fibre of my being. By then I'm somentally exhausted I can't resist the urge to close my eyes. Moments later, I'mdrifting off to sleep.