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The bright sunlight beams through the window and shines light upon the small, quiet room. The silence in the room is almost overpowering, just like the light. It feels as if I've been asleep for years. I lay in bed, waiting for some sound. But after who knows how long of a time waiting for that sound to come, I eventually quit believing there will be any.

Within a few minutes of being awake, I begin to feel aches across my entire body. I slowly prop myself onto my elbows, weak. I take large breaths, unaware of my surroundings. My heart begins to pound in my chest. I take a good look at the room I'm in.

It's bright. The sun lightens the teal walls and splays shadows across the light gray carpet from the lace half-opened curtains that hang beside the bed in which I lay. The covers are black, and most of the room is furnished with just a desk, dresser, nightstand, and bed. They all match the same dark wood. But beside the nightstand that's beside the bed sits a large machine. Some kind of monitor? It looks fancy. But it also looks dead.

I slowly bring myself onto my hands and then into a sitting position. Pain shoots through my back and up my neck. I take in a sharp breath, surprised at the instant pain. After it subsides, I inch my way slowly towards the edge of the bed and let my legs swing close to the floor. When I stand up, I end up crumbling under my own weight. I hit the floor with a small yelp as more pain crashes over my body. I can feel something tearing at my inner elbow and notice I have an IV stuck into my vein. I unprofessionally remove it from my flesh, watching blood begin to slowly ease from the hole it punctured. Pained and confused at my weakness, it takes me three more attempts to stand up. With the help of furniture and the walls, I make it out of the room.

"Hello?" I call, wiping the blood from my arm with my nightgown. No one replies. The unfamiliar house is dead silent, so I continue on down the hall. I'm met by a room with a small amount of light in it. I open the curtains to let more light in. When I turn around, I am met by a teenage girl. I jump back, almost falling back on the floor. That's when I realize it's a mirror.

I stare at it for a minute, slowly getting closer. I don't understand what I'm seeing. Someone, some girl, standing before me copies my exact moves. It's me, I know it's me. But who am I? And why don't I remember?

My fingers tremble as I skim them over my bruised face. I'm pale. I look like a ghost. Hell, maybe I am a ghost. But I don't remember dying. I don't even remember my own name. Though my skin looks dead, my eyes look alive. They're wide open and terrified, but so blue. I have to get closer to the mirror to look deeper into them. Once I'm closer, I notice just how jacked up my face is. It's covered in healing cuts and dark bruises. But from what? What caused this?

I don't bother putting a brush through my long and messy blonde hair. I back out of the bathroom and walk until I'm greeted by a living room. It's a very bright room, the sun light bounces off of every beige wall. The furniture isn't too fancy, but it's quite decent.

It's not until I'm walking into the kitchen when I realize how hungry I am. Opening the pantry greets me with a small amount of food. Whoever left this house took everything. Most of the food left is large cereal boxes and a few cans of spam. There's luckily some granola bars that I chose to eat first.

But when I open the fridge for further search of more food, I'm smacked in the face with such a strong and nauseating scent. It wafts out of the fridge like poison. It's so disgusting that I bend over and begin to dry heave, but there's nothing in me to throw up.

The source of the smell comes from a combination of a spilled milk carton, rotting vegetables, and some sort of moldy cheese. Great combination.

I close the powerless fridge. I've come to the conclusion that this house has no electricity.

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