Darkness.
That's all I see.
This black, hollow, unending existence is the only thing in sight, until from one point within this dark void, I see light beginning to emerge. Then I see my mother. She has always been so beautiful, ever since I can remember. Her long, blonde hair that falls effortlessly yet perfectly past her soft shoulders. Her eyes, as blue as mine, yet slightly grayed over time. Her lips, the most unique shade of pink. My mother has always been quite thin, still tall though, and people can see she is a strong lady by her posture and the way she holds herself.
My father has told me ever since I can remember, that he feels he is the luckiest man alive to have had a life with mum. My dad looks quite similar to my mother actually, and I see him clearly now. His short, tousled, blonde hair, paired with his strong figure, though he is certainly bigger than mum, and he weighs much more. He is so, very tall and has dark, green eyes. Both of my parents look like they belong on a beach, except for the fact they are equally rather white. Each with their soft features which goes well with their soft hearts. I do love my folks, I've done my best to become the daughter I am today. I want them to be proud of me. I hear a whisper within the darkness, it's my mother, "We love you very much, Skye." I want to say "I love you" back, but I can't do anything.
My parents fade back into the darkness. In their place I see no image, but acknowledge a pain coming from where I can only estimate is the very depths of my brain. When it comes to my head hurting in the morning, I can tell it's because I had a little too much to drink the night before (which is a very rare occasion, if I'm honest). In this situation, the appropriate action to a hangover is as follows: "Urghhh..." I groan out loud for a totality of seven seconds. I'm coming back into the land of the living once more, slowly yet surely. I try to open my eyes, but they are met with a gigantic, bright light above me, and they shut again instantly. My pupils, though as tiny as can be due to the shock, burn from inside my eyelids. While the pain is fading the tighter I told my eyes closed, I realise how weird my body feels. It feels heavy, which is relatively normal, but the numbness is new to me. My head is still aching quite a bit, so I raise my left hand to hold my forehead in comfort, however my hand moves but an inch or two upwards before stopping, my wrist hitting something hard and cold. Even though I can still see the rays of the light above me shining through the tissue of my eyelids, I open them once again. They sting for a second, but I look away to my left hand. Upon inspection, I see a metal cuff of sorts holding my hand hostage. That isn't all that confuses me, for the next thing I notice is I'm not in my bed. I'm on a metal table. "What the hell ... " I trail off quietly. I lift my head to gain a better perspective and move my other hand in vain. I look around and take in my surroundings. I'm strapped to a metal table in a strange, white, tiled room.
Aside from slightly freaking out in my head, with my weakness from slumber wearing off more quickly (perhaps from my panic), I continue to look around in this unfamiliar room, trying to understand what is happening and where I am. There are white tiles across the walls, a door and a darkened window to my left and some complex computers to my right with a lot on the screens but nothing I can make out from where I am. What really catches my eye though, is what I spot towards the bottom of the table I'm on to my right: a slightly smaller table that has laid upon it, not only a scary - looking selection of medical equipment that looks like it was created for cutting into or torturing living things, but also a number of large syringes with needles as long as my middle finger. They are filled with a variety of coloured liquids. None of them pretty.
My head falls back onto the table. Worry is rising within my throat. I repeat in my head, I don't know where I am, I don't know why I'm here, and I don't know what happened for me to end up here. I mean, is this a hospital? It is all decorated in white, there is medical equipment, and there are computers possibly keeping track of my heart rate and blood pressure. As much as I would love to believe this theory of being in safe hands, the fact that I'm literally strapped down to what I've seen as operating tables in horror movies, makes me wonder if I'm actually in the basement of a mad scientist's house. That would explain me not being able to move, the scary cutting equipment, and the odd - looking information on the computer screens. Maybe that's it, maybe I'm being held captive by a madman. My head still aches. I don't know why I do it, I guess I'm just scared, but I say loudly, "Mum?" A few moments pass, so I lift my head again and aim my voice for the door, "Mum!" I shout. Nothing.
Wait.
I hear something on the other side of the door. I listen hard. It's a man. No, two. It sounds like a pair of men in a conversation. I'm still listening for anything that will give me clarity on my situation when the door suddenly swings open and in comes a tall man with fair hair, a strong physique, and what looks like a modern adaptation of the classic laboratory coats I've seen on detective shows many times before, with a lanyard around his neck, and a card that says Johnathan Bigsby on it. Johnathan immediately spots me with my head lifted from the table and stops in his tracks. We both stay silent as he seems to examine me for a long moment, he then turns around and goes straight back through the door. I hear the voices again, this time a little more distressed. I still haven't a clue what to think. A short minute or two passes and I see the door open and Johnathan enters once more, however this time he is accompanied by who I can assume was the other voice behind the door. This new man strolls in like he owns the place, or he is certainly the guy who runs it. He is taller than Johnathan, his hair is bleach blonde and his eyes are menacing, which goes perfectly with his smile. He isn't wearing a lab coat, he wears a suit. Overall, just looking at him makes my skin crawl. He looks like the kind of guy who knows where the bodies are buried, if you know what I mean.
He stares at me for a very long moment, and I stare right back, almost as if I'm trying to convince him that I'm not intimidated by him, as much as I'm trying to convince myself of that, too. Johnathan finally breaks the silence of our stare - off, "She is not meant to have woken up this early." The second man continues to stare at me, and without looking away, he asks, "Can we not sedate her again?" Johnathan answers, "No, Sir, a second dosage of the sedation compound could cause her brain or heart to shut down like the subjects before her." I feel my arms and my core tense a little at the thought of something shutting down my heart and brain, just like that. The unknown man's forehead wrinkles in thought as he looks over me, now curious in the rest of my body, creepily enough. Eventually, when he has moved around the table to be closer to the left side of my head, his lips curl into a smile that makes my spin tingle, he shrugs and says in a much less serious tone, "We will just have to administer to serums with the test subject awake." I start to panic a little bit in my head, 'Test subject'? What does he mean? This mysterious man leans down slowly until I feel his breath on my left ear, "Unluckily for you." I feel my face go hot. He leans upwards again. What the hell is this? I don't know what to do, I feel helpless, but I also know I'm not the scared little girl I used to be. I'm stronger than this and I know I have the right to know what's going on. On the other hand, I am scared. These men are talking about me as if I'm not even here, like maybe I don't understand them. Almost like I'm an animal or an alien. They say I'm a test subject? For the love of god, a test subject for what? Hell, I am scared. Screw this. I blurt out, "Where am I?"
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