The Lost Stars: (The Discontinued Stories of Sky Writers in Perspective)

Version 4 Chapter 3

Originally Published (approx): Dec 2014 - Jan 2015

Your eyelids fluttered. You could see white spots in your vision, there had to be harsh lights overhead because your eyes started watering as soon as you tried to open them. In the end you just gave up trying to open your eyes because those bright lights were just giving you more of a headache.  

Where the hell am I? You head throbbed angrily against the pillow. You put a hand to your head, as if that would dull the pain. You let out a soft groan. Jeez. My voice sounds like I just spent some time gargling gravel, not to mention my throat is killing me. A vague 'wooshing' sound in the background let you know that you weren't alone anymore.

You forced yourself to try to sit up, and then open your eyes- at least that way you wouldn't be blinded by the lights above you. A gentle hand pushed you back down onto the bed. Your eyes flew open as you resisted the pressure- even though it wasn't very forceful.

"Easy there, you've been unconscious for a while now." The middle aged doctor with thin rimmed glasses smiled down at you. He stepped back once you stopped struggling, typing some figures into a high tech tablet that he had.

You relaxed, figuring that he wasn't here to hurt you. You blinked your eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the brightness in the room. The throbbing in your head hadn't gone away, but you could feel the intensity lighten ever so slightly. He seemed to be engrossed upon getting your vital readings from various machines that you've never seen around the room.

Then again, you never really had to go to the hospital before so you wouldn't know what each machine did anyways. You just wanted to stretch out so you didn't feel stiff all over. You slowly sat up. You stretched your arms out in front of you- clenching and unclenching your hands into fists. Even the joints in your hands felt like they'd never been moved around before.

You wanted to get up out of bed, but you got the feeling that the doc was going to rain on that parade. You didn't really wanna see how well walking would go when your head felt like it was just used as someone's punching bag.

You rolled your neck slowly, scrunching up your face with discomfort when you heard and felt crackling noises. You twisted your back slightly in bed, and the crack was loud enough that the doctor had heard.

"I understand that you're probably feeling stiff from being unconscious so long, but please be careful."

You gave him a nod equivalent to vocalizing a, 'yea, yea.' The doctor went back to glancing at the screens. You glanced at your own skin. Was it always this translucent? I feel like I haven't been outside in ages... And the doctor did say I was unconscious for so long... Should I ask him?

"How long was I unconscious?" You cleared your throat the best you could after you heard how raspy your voice was. You looked around for a glass of water, and the doctor went to a small miniature fridge you hadn't seen before and pulled out a bottle of water for you. You nodded gratefully. You drank slowly at first, but the urge to drain the bottle dry only increased and the entire thing was empty within a minute.

"Would you like another?" The doctor asked.

"I think I'd like an answer to my question first." You were grateful for the water since you stopped sounding like an old lady that gargled rocks all her life instead of mouthwash, but you were irritated at how he avoided your question.

"I understand it must be difficult-"

"What part do you understand Doc? Hmm? That I would really like to know what the hell is going on and I can tell you're not going to give me that information? Not to mention this God-awful headache."