The Author's Will

80 | Time Limit

　　 Beep. Beep. Beep.

The distant, high-pitched rhythm of a heart rate monitor echoed inside her head, like the ripple of a church bell tolling through the air at midnight. Her mind was a haze, eyes fluttering ever so slightly open only to view a world of pristine white walls through blurry lenses.

...Where am I...?

This question lingered in her mind for a moment. A mixed tang of lemony cleaning products and pungent bleach wafted through to her nostrils, a scent she hadn't inhaled in what felt like decades. The crisp, cool sensation of bedsheets encompassed her slender body like a baby wrapped in a swaddle.

Her vision cleared, ever so slightly. The grand plafond she half expected to see overhead for some reason, did not exist to greet her this morning. All her eyes stared vacantly at was a bitterly familiar, plain white ceiling.

In a practised movement, she gingerly sat herself upright without jostling her arm - the prick of a needle caused her skin to tingle with discomfort. She carefully removed the oxygen mask from her face, a strand of brown hair falling over her shoulder as she did this.

This place is...

As her dull brown eyes roamed over the familiar plainly-furnished and pristine room, she sighed very softly. A square window with plain curtains allowed light to pour over the mundane room. The only splash of decor in sight was the glass bottle of white aster flowers dappled with yellow, sitting languidly on the sill.

That, and the clumsy painting of a white bird - pinned to the wall. A gift from a child patient she had befriended during her time here. Though the illustration resembled a chicken, he had proudly proclaimed it was "A majestic Phoenix who could protect her from any harm."

Remembering the way his small face simpered confidently as he said this, jogged her memories ever so slightly.

Right, I'm in the hospital...

Where else would I be?

She laughed sardonically in her head, but her lips didn't have the energy to smile. The crippling sensation through her body was as painful and difficult to bear as she remembered. For some strange reason, her mind felt a little bit too blank. As though she just experienced the wildest of dreams, only to forget everything about it the moment she woke up to reality.

But this time, something about it was strange.

She couldn't shake the feeling that something salient was hiding in the shadows of her mind. A memory locked tightly away - yet to be revealed. Did that dream have something to do with it? Whatever it was, she couldn't recall it now.

...Oh well. If I forgot about it, it probably wasn't that big of a deal.

Just then, the subdued click of the door resonated through the room, and a familiar middle-aged man stepped inside. His deep blue eyes brightened with a smile at the sight of her, the white coat adorning his slender figure almost as blinding as the rest of the room.

"Miss Hanna, you're awake! How are you feeling?"

His cheerful voice felt like a siren in her ears. Wincing, Hanna averted her gaze and slowly lowered her head back against the pillow.

"...Like crap."

Her succinct response elicited an amused chuckle from the bespectacled doctor, hair like sunshine curled around a handsome face that beamed at her radiantly. The soles of his shoes clopped delicately over the tiled flooring as he moved towards the window with that familiar, swanlike grace.