26 | Void And Perplexed

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Kiara

The annoying sound of steady, high-pitched beeping, coming from beside me, caused me to stir in my slumber. My eyelids were heavy, and I felt an enormous pain emerging from my head and legs. I struggled to open my eyes, and when I finally did manage to open them, the first thing I noticed was the white ceiling and Mom sniffling in the corner, reading a newspaper.

Where am I? Am I still dreaming?

All the different thoughts swarming in my mind caused my head to throb with colossal pain. I winced and raised my hand to cradle my head, but stopped midway to stare at the white object on my index finger with two numbers blinking at me in bright blue; ninety-eight and seventy-seven.

Confused, I looked down at my body. I took in the thin clothes patterned with the print of the name; 'Oberlin Hospital.'A needle in my hand and a tube in my mouth made me whimper in pain. Mom looked up from the newspaper and scrambled towards me, her eyes bulging in concern.

"Kiara? Darling, you're awake!" she exclaimed. "Wait here, honey."

I stared behind her as she dashed out of the room. I stared at my quivering hands, puzzled. They weren't wrinkled and felt the same as they used to, but I felt so tired. It was like I was suddenly a seventy-year-old.

What year is it? How old am I?

I scanned around for my phone, but it was nowhere to be seen. I looked up when Mom rushed in, followed closely by a doctor in a white coat and a nurse in blue scrubs--their crocs squeaking against the clean, tiled floor.

He smiled at me kindly while I stared back in bewilderment.

"Good morning," he drawled, glancing at the heart monitor beside me. "Her vitals are stable, so there doesn't seem to be anything to be afraid of," he told my mom, who instantly clutched her chest, sighing in relief.

He looked down at me and beamed before saying, "Okay, Kiara, I need you to tell me how you are feeling."

Glancing over at Mom, who was watching intently from the side, I noticed that she wasn't how I remembered. A few grey hairs had appeared on her head, and her eyes looked even more jaded, like she'd been crying every night.

I opened my mouth to speak, but to my disappointment, no sound came out--perhaps it was due to the massive tube poked in my mouth, but I couldn't make a single sound. I looked up at the copper-haired doctor in confusion, but he just smiled reassuringly.

"It'll take around two days for her to regain her speech. She must take speech therapy for a while," he informed Mom.

Suddenly, immense tiredness overcame me, and it took every ounce of the remaining energy that I had to keep my eyes open, and all the tubes in my body weren't helping.

The pain was too much, and I was too enervated that I decided to give in to the agony and accept the needles and tubes sticking into me. So I laid back and closed my eyes, drifting back to sleep as the voices of Mom and the doctor surrounded me, a stray tear flowing down my cheek.

●●●

It's been four days since I first woke up, and I could finally talk. The pain was still ineffable, and my entire body felt like jelly. I couldn't walk on my own without crumbling to the floor. At least, the tube in my throat was removed, so that's a plus. The only thing I did--for the entire four days--was sleep. I was too tired to even think.

Mom didn't tell me anything about how I ended up like this, but I was insanely curious. I had a ton of questions to ask her, but I was too fatigued that I kept putting it off and decided not to question anything.

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