The Orbist

Chapter 1

 I saw white. Like, paint white. A little tint of brown near the center like a little scratch. I started to wonder what could of made it that way. Perhaps someone who had sharp fingernails slipped. Maybe a bug flew in, and someone hit it, and left a little crack in the paint. Maybe when they were painting it, they just missed a spot, and now it looks like a scratch. I had a really long time to think about this, like a week, because that scratched wall was the only thing I saw in that period of time. I tried to move, but I couldn't. Just because. I felt my body, but I couldn't do anything with it. I often felt someone else touching me in the back, so it didn't take me long to realize I was in the hospital. Finally I was able to move. I just knew it when I felt my blood pumping a little faster, and I slowly raised my arm, and waved it around like an idiot.

    "Hey buddy, how's it going?"

 I turned around to see a smiling mustache face.

    "Am I okay?" I whispered. He chuckled.

    "Usually I ask that." He smiled. "We found you on a boardwalk, with blood leaking out of your nose. You have been in here for a week. An hour in, and you were already awake. We tried to move or talk to you, but you wouldn't respond to us."

    "I tried." I said. "I tried but I couldn't."

    "Do you remember your name?" He asked.

    "I think my name is Cayson." I replied.

    "Well-"

    "Quiet." I shakily stood up from the bed.

    "Excuse -"

    "Was I the only kid to be passed out on a sidewalk?" I interrupted, and sat up from my bed.

    "Actually, no, there was another-"

    "What room?"

    "Uh...212. But you should stay in bed."

    "I can't." I opened the door. "I have this feeling. Like something important is happening."

 I walked out of the room, trying to remain balanced, but my knees were wobbling too much. I placed my hand against the white wall to my right to keep me from falling over as I numbly walked down the hall. 201...202...203. I stopped for a second to catch my breath. What in the world was I thinking? I JUST woke up from a week long paralysis. I turned around, only to find out the doctor was pulling out a small device, most likely to call security. I grimaced, knowing there was no way I would be able to make it to Room 212 in time.

    "We've got an emergency!" I heard a man yell. Suddenly, a dozen people crowded the hall space of my original room before the doctor was even able to speak into his device. This included several surgeons, and one very stressed out looking man in jeans and a buttoned down white shirt.

    "Listen, I've already got a boy who's out of his bed..." The doctor began.

    "Please," The man begged. "My son was hit by a truck, he won't stop bleeding. I...I, please!"

    "Then why'd you take the time to get to the second floor? The emergency room is downstairs!"

    "Peter!" A surgeon shouted in frustration. "How about you shut your mouth and help the poor boy?!"

 The doctor sighed. I continued to stare in fear, until satisfaction hit me as he put down the device. He gestured the group in, and they all disappeared from my sight into the room. I grinned, not because I was free from his sight, but because that boy was going to be okay. Was I going to be okay? Who was I? Was caring about other people a part of my character?

    "Cayson." I said aloud in a hushed voice, in fear of forgetting my own name. "Cayson." It was an okay name. Had a nice ring to it. Hopefully my surname would add to it nicely, and not ruin the whole thing.

 I looked ahead, and began dragging myself towards Room 212. I looked at the labeled doors I passed, letting the numbers sink in. 204...205...206. Something cold began to drop from my nose to the carpet floor. I felt my nostril. Blood. I was wearing myself out by walking too early. And holy god was I thirsty. I trudged on, hoping I wouldn't collapse from exhaustion. It wasn't that the only thing that was stopping me was tiredness though... I just honestly didn't have the physical capability to walk after such a long time lying in the same spot. It felt like walking into an ocean. Every single step got me deeper in a freezing state with less oxygen, and my legs moved like they were walking underwater as well.

    "Pull yourself together, buddy." I pep-talked to myself. "R-read the room numbers. How many doors do we have left?"

 I turned my head to the side, and read the implanted iron numbers.

    "208...209...210...211...211...212."

 I pushed the door open. There laid a tanned kid lying on his bed awake, wearing the same white hospital gown as I was, and about the same age as me. He stared at me in surprise. I slowly walked closer to him, then dropped my body on his bed at his feet, letting my energy slowly resurrect. I smiled like a goof as my limbs all felt better lying on the bed, feeling like I was sinking in a huge marshmallow. I let out a huge breath of relief, looking like a complete idiot.

    "Who are you?" He asked, looking at me angrily.

    "I've been asking myself the same question. Well, I don't know who I am. I don't know who you are. I don't know why we're here, I don't know why we're still here. I don't know our pasts. I don't know our future. But I'm ninety percent sure we're in huge trouble."