Chapter Forty-Seven: An End?

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George Washington was elected the first President of the United States on the 30th of April, 1789

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The silence is jarring.

Even as I lay asleep, I am used to constant noise. It never left, it persisted in my head, chipping away at any semblance of peace I had. And now? 

There's nothing. Complete silence.

And it's loud. The silence is loud. It rings in my ears, the static. I didn't know that could even happen. That's what woke me up- the silence.

"Ugh..." I open my eyes, before I quickly regret it and close them. Bright light shone directly into my eyes, and I turns my head to the side. What greets me is the most strange sight I've seen in a while.

I am no longer in the forest, and I'm not in a house- at least, I do not think so. The space I am in- a room?- is not a place where anyone would live. It's a blinding white- from the ceiling to the walls to the floor. There are no windows, no carpets, no furniture, other than a chair in a corner- and, like the rest of the room, it's white.

I must be hallucinating again. But I'm not in someone else's mind, my thoughts are mine, and I can move my body how I wish. No noise invades my head, and it shouldn't be that way. While, in some other situation, the silence would give me peace, but now? It's just another oddity of whatever place I'm in.

Everything I'm seeing is fuzzy around the edges. The agony I was in seemingly moments ago has dulled to an ache. The world around me- is it even a world- is a still painting. Only then do I realize, as my head clears, that there is sound in the room. It's a high pitched noise, repeating at a slow rhythm, like a human voice. But it was not a human voice- it could not repeat itself so flawlessly. It did not sound like a person either, but there was no other way I could describe it.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The bed I'm on is comfortable. It's lumpy and hard on my back, but I would take this over a cot any day. My days in Washington's staff have really lowered my standards- Washington. Shit, shit, shit- Washington's still waiting for me! How long was I asleep? Where am I?

I suddenly sit up and a wave of vertigo hits me. The complete silence is unsettling as my vision sharpens again. Something's poking me in my arm, so I turn to look- what the hell is that?

The constant recurring noise speeds up, and the needle in my forearm continues to be there. It's pierced through my skin, going directly into my veins. From said metal is a thin tube, thinner than my finger, and through it flows a crimson liquid- blood, it has to be. That tube leads to a... a... a container of incredible transparency, which is half full with blood.

Am I being bloodlet? Well, I should definitely not continue doing that- I've survived long enough, I don't want this to kill me just because someone thinks better. Removing the needle is harder than anticipated, as it's attached to my arm with gauze- unusually thin, and I cringe at the amount of money it had to cost. I try pulling it out gently, but it's stuck quite thoroughly.

"Oh, don't fiddle with that." An amused voice calls out, and my head snaps to the other side of the room. There's a door- also white- and right by it stands a woman, dressed in a... coat. And breeches. "The doc won't be too happy with me if you pull that out."

I must be dreaming.

"I didn't think you'd be waking up so soon, but you're full of surprises, aren't you?"

What? What is she talking about? Did I do something while I was unconscious? How would that even work? My mind is still so fuzzy- I have no clue why it hasn't cleared up by now.

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