I woke up in an all white room. A window was on one side of the room. In a chair in the corner was a dark haired boy, probably 23 years old, in scrubs. A smile was on his face. His blue eyes shone.
"Alana?" his voice was smooth and soft, "Alana, I'm Dr. Sheen. I'm one of your operators. I'm sorry to inform you that you'll be paralyzed until your back heals. You have a broken back, four broken ribs, one of your arms is broken, and you have a punctured lung. We had to remove your spleen and gallbladder because they were crushed."
"My friends?" I breathed out. It was hard.
"All three of them died in the accident," his voice sounded drained, "The semi folded around the car in a way that the passenger seat didn't take much of the impact. I'm sorry Alana."
I sobbed. I was clearly on oxygen and it made breathing fast hard. How could they be dead?