The Uprising

CHAPTER 2

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My eyes flutter open when my body senses someone watching me. I wait until my pupils adjust to the darkness, then take in the surroundings. The moonlight poured through the thin white curtains shielding the windows, illuminating the dark room. It took me a minute to realize that I was in a hospital.

My head snaps to the darkest side of the room, where the light couldn't touch. I could make out a figure posing by the door. I push myself into an upright position and stare at the object of disturbance. The mysterious figure moves towards me. The machine beeps as my heart hammered in my chest, causing whoever it was to stop in their tracks.

They are close enough for me to see a face. Except there was no face. I was staring into a soulless mask with a sinister grin. My body automatically sinks back into the softness of the pillow.

My eyes slowly trail from the mask downwards. By the black suit attire, I could tell it was a man. In his gloved hands, he held a single white rose.

"W-who are you?" I stutter weakly.

He didn't answer. Instead, he took another step toward me. My eyes close out of fear and wait for the worst. I was going to die, I think. A tear rolls down my cheeks; my body trembles beyond control. He was right next to me. There was no questioning it, I felt his presence towering over me, and just as it came. He was gone.

The decision to take a peak was burning me to the core,
Curiosity won, and I check to see what the intruder was doing. I was alone. In the corner of my vision, I saw it. Laying on the table next to me was a captivating white rose that glows every time the moonlight touches it.

The room was silent. I was starting to wonder if my mind conjured the whole scenario. It must have been the drugs they had given me. Yes, that was it. Maybe if I convince myself of that repeatedly, my brain would believe it and let me go back to sleep. Except it wasn't, the rose was there to remind me of what I had seen.

There wasn't any sleep left to catch. The peculiar experience causes my mind to be alert. I play the scene in my head over and over again. All I could remember clearly was the mask. I thought about it until the small beams of sunlight sneaks through the curtains.

The door opened, and a nurse dressed in a blue uniform came in with a food tray. She carefully places the contents on the desk next to the rose.

"Miss Wilson, you should eat something,"

"I'm not hungry. I will eat it later. Can I see my mother?"

"She's in the waiting room. I'll get her."

The nurse leaves, and I attempt to eat but every inch of my body cried out in pain. To add to that, hospital food wasn't the greatest. I ignored my aching muscles and force the food down until I was done.

My mother enters the room, and from the first glance I took of her, I could tell she didn't sleep. Her brown eyes held fear as she examines my figure. It reminds me of how she looked at my room to see if I had cleaned it, except this was extremely intense.

"I'm fine," I tell her to ease her worries.

Fine was an understatement. I was in terrible pain. Like a hangover, time a hundred. I only could pray she didn't try to hug me. Luckily the doctor comes in soon after and starts talking.

My mind strays from the conversation. The mask was all I could think about. White, frozen, dreadful, and emotionless. Something only a horror movie would cough up.

"Jemi!"

"Yes, mom," I answer the call of my name.

"Dr.Davern will take care of you for a few days. Then you will be able to come home"

"Okay."

No, this was not okay, I want to leave. There was no way on earth I could spend another day in this place, it doesn't feel safe. It smelt like the room had been clean hundreds of times, and the longer I'm here, the more uncomfortable my body feels.

"I will administrator a light sedative to help with the pain and get you some rest," the doctor informs me. I hadn't paid her any attention since she came into the room. I give her a quick scan. She had a small round face and puffy cheeks, her black hair cascading in waves down her shoulders. I notice that she lacked a white coat, which doctors usually wear, but there was a stethoscope around her neck. In her hands, there was a tray that contained a syringe.

"I don't need that."

"Jemima, listen to the Doctor," My mother warns me.

"Please call me Kayla" She walks over to me, and I try to protest. My mother, being well my mother, wasn't having it. After the needle pierced my skin, I could feel my eyelids shutting and a wave of darkness enveloping me.

I thought she said light sedative.