After being ordered by the State to undergo Deep Sleep, a treatment for troubled teens, Jo awakens in the hospital with sporadic and unexplained memories. Upon celebrating her rebirthday, she recalls strange past events that makes her question reali...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Upon pressing my fingers into the soft flesh of my gut, the center monitor beeped in conjunction. I ignored the throbbing discomfort to stand before it to see more numbers and lines dance onscreen. Not satisfied, I tapped the display to prompt it to change or demonstrate new information.
Nothing occurred as expected.
Again, my fingers pressed deeper creating a fleshy dent in my gut and the beeping commenced. A series of numbers appeared at the top of the screen and continually increased and decreased in amount as if counting or calculating. My belly ached as I squeezed harder, causing my breathing to become shallow.
Confused and overwhelmed, I gave up. My eyes scanned the room in a determined effort to absorb any information that could help me stitch together the intricate puzzle. With an unsatisfactory huff, I swiped through my diary again, this time skipping to the end to read the last entry dated a year ago.
I have to do this for Ian. He would want me to, I know he's counting on me. I can't just sit back and pretend—
The paragraph ended, and no more pages remained after that strange and abrupt phrase. What was I about to write? And more importantly, what did I need to do for Ian?
Suddenly it occurred to me that maybe I had written something important or significant, but someone deleted it. How could I even be sure the diary was truly mine or that I had written those words? There were so many questions and it was difficult to trust anyone with the correct answers.
Without access to a reliable clock, the sense of urgency hovered in the atmosphere as minutes seemed to move by in seconds. I rummaged through the small metal drawers beneath the machines. Not all of them opened, but the ones that were unlocked contained various sterile instruments in clear plastic packaging. Most of the equipment I didn't recognize, but I assumed they were medical and surgical tools judging by the sleek and smooth metal.
Finding nothing of use, I closed the drawers.
How do I get out of this hospital and where will I go once I leave?
Before turning away from the monitor, I caught a glimpse of my reflection on the screen. The same dark ringlets that spooled from Ian's fingertips framed my face. The distinct outline of my nose showed upon examining my profile, and memories of pressing the tips of my nose against Ian's flooded me.
I wanted to go home. I didn't know where home was or what waited for me, but I had to get there.
A hot tear crept down my cheek and I swiped it away, not willing to give in to my frustrations. Obviously, being in this room wasn't much help. I had to find the facility's exit.
Cautiously, I made my way back to the door and said a silent farewell to the sleeping women arranged on the wall behind me. I pressed my ear to the steal door, listening for any signs of life out in the hall. Satisfied, I turned the knob and pulled the door open to step out.
