Its this one, Andrew

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You wake up in a white cell with blood on the walls and floor and the solitary light is flickering. There are pieces of a broken wooden chair in the corner and as you attempt to get up, you realize one footlong piece is stuck straight through your right forearm. Your head is pounding, and blood is coming from there too, but it's not a fatal wound. Whimpering, and caressing your mangled arm you drunkenly move towards your cell door in hopes that someone can unlock it and get you medical attention. But there's no need: the door is cracked open. You shove into it with your shoulder and, half crawling, make your way towards an exit sign. "Where am I?" the thought runs through your head for the first time. You know you're in a hospital of some kind but you're in too much pain to think why. You find yourself in a room that says supplies over the door and fumble with the light switch. On the shelf is a box labelled "Morphine." You quickly grab the whole box and a few rolls of bandages, as well some disinfectant. "What is this?" you think. "What am I doing? Who am I?" Back in the corridor, you collapse halfway towards the operating room. Shaking, you grab a morphine injector and stab yourself in the biceps. Back on your feet, you half run, half hobble to the next room where you lay your arm on the table and sit on the bench. Vision blurring, you hastily wrap the bandages around the profusely bleeding wound. Then, gingerly, you touch the piece of splintered wood and wince. Any contact sends waves of pain up your arm. You realize you must get the wood out before an infection manifests. Only now, when you take off your belt to bite down on it, do you realize what else you are wearing: A navy shirt and pants. No time to question why. You situate your arm inject yourself again, and get a firm grip on the fragment of wood. "Count to three. You can do it. Okay, Here we go. Here we go. One." Sweat pours down your face and back. "Two." You bite down and squint your eyes shut. "Three." The world explodes as you wrench at the piece. Someone screams, and you suddenly feel nothing.

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