[UNDER HEAVY REVISION] After receiving an unexpected package from an unexpected sender, seventeen-year-old Amelia Kingston is thrown into the prestigious Olympian High. For someone whose life revolved around constant transferring to schools due to h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I woke up with a start.
I squinted at the fluorescent lights overhead, my eyes sweeping around the unfamiliar space. There was nobody in the white-walled room except for me.
On my left were strange apparatuses and machines that were attached to me with wires and tubes. One of them had a screen showing my heart rate and was beeping constantly, showing that my heart was beating normally. There was an IV stand on my right with some liquid bags hanging on it.
An IV? Am I in a hospital? How did I get here?
When I couldn't think of an answer, I instead continued inspecting the place. Maybe I'll get some clues.
On my right was a table full of empty water bottles and Styrofoam containers, which made the surface look messy. A lone plastic chair sat beside the table and was bit slanted, looking like it was facing me.
Was someone watching me the whole time I was asleep?
Across the room, the door opened and revealed Uncle Ben carrying a plastic bag with his one hand. He was looking outside and was talking to someone. He talked for a few more seconds before saying a 'thank you' to the person he was speaking with, who turned out to be a nurse, and turned around and closed the door.
Sighing heavily, he ran a hand through his hair and started mumbling something under his breath. He then looked up and his eyes bulged out when he saw me.
"A-Amelia?" he said, his mouth slackening. The bag he was holding fell from his grasp, its contents scattering across the floor.
I weakly smiled. "Hey, Uncle Ben," I said, my voice raspy.
He shuffled to my side and held me into a bone-crushing embrace. "I-I can't believe it! You're awake!"
I coughed. "C-can't. . . breath. . ."
He let go of me and sheepishly smiled at me. "Sorry, Mel. You have no idea how glad I am that you're awake."
My lips parted to say something to him, but no words came out except for another dry cough.
"You need water," Ben said, picking up the plastic bag from the floor, fishing a water bottle and handing it to me. "You didn't have any food or water lately."
"Thanks," I said. "How long was I out, by the way?"
Taking the bottle from him, I began drinking in big gulps, the water passing through my parched throat and quenching my thirst.
Ben hesitated before he spoke, "You were unconscious for, um, almost a week."
I breathed sharply, making me choke up. I coughed, the water sputtering out of my mouth. I continued coughing for several moments until the scratchy feeling in my throat was gone.
When I was finally done, I cleared my throat to make sure the itchy sensation was gone. I then stared at Ben, my eyes wide.
"A week?" I exclaimed. "But I—it felt, like, that I passed out yesterday!"
