My eyes flickered open. My first instinct was to lift up my head to look around, but a cold, metal restraint was around my neck, locking me in place. I tried to remove it, but there were bars over my wrists and ankles too. I mainly noticed the large hole on this table-chair thing I was on, like those holes in massage chairs, but beneath my back instead.
Speaking of my back, the pain I felt in my dreams didn't go away. Oddly enough, I had known I was dreaming while it was actually happening, so I didn't really find it too strange when my back still hurt after I had awoken. The ceilings and walls looked almost exactly like any stereotypical hospital room, white tiled ceiling with stained white walls. The room smelled damp and musty, but also clean and sanitized at the same time, if that even was possible. I could hear the footsteps of one person walking at a brisk pace near the room, when just as I expected…
Creak!
The door behind my head, that I really can't see but know is there, opens with a rather loud hinge. Jesus, get some WD-40 on that thing, I thought to myself. Then, remembering how the strange kids around my "room" were talking through only thoughts, I tried to stop thinking.
As I finally was able to see who had entered the room, I let out a huge sigh of relief.
"Tim!"
"Hello, Amber."
What now? Since when was he so…formal? I mean, he did basically kidnap me in a suit and limo yesterday, but that's not the point. My head was throbbing in the most agonizing way possible as what I assumed was anesthesia started to wear off. Tim walked towards me with a smile on his face, but stopped about 6 feet away from me- staring just above my eyes, almost as if he was looking directly at my head right where it hurt.
"Please let me out of this," I begged, not even having to try to make my voice sound weak, "I just wanna go home!" Tears filled my eyes as he walked up to me, now directly next to my head, and stroked my cheeks softly. "This is your home now. You can't risk it. Not now." He sounded strangely pleased, which almost made me even more uncomfortable.
As he loomed over me, the tears in my eyes started to roll over the side of my cheeks. He wiped them away for me, then slowly reached over for the buttons on the restraints with one hand while putting the other on my chest to keep me down. I watched him press them, and sighed as the pressure holding my wrists, ankles, neck, and waist was pulled away. Slowly, I tried to sit up. I felt super lightheaded- I was wiping tears from my eyes with one hand, holding myself up with the other. For some reason, Tim insisted I keep my hands away from my face, and wiped my tears for me.
As odd as it seemed, I let him, and it felt sort of nice for him to care for me in that way. Only did it concern me the most when he tried to get me off of the table, slowly swinging my legs to dangle off the edge, as if he dare not startle me. Gently, he started saying things along the lines of- "come this way" "I have a surprise for you" "you're going to love this". Panicking slightly more by the second, I watched as the world seemed to feel more real. My feet hit the ground limply as my uncle nudged me from behind, his hand resting just below where my belt would have been. It felt…awkward, but I couldn't say anything. It was as if I was under a daze, for I could barely feel my feet as I was guided to wherever Tim wanted me to go.
As I felt my steps slow to a stop, I put my little energy into lifting my head to see where I had been taken. I didn't want to be taken here, but I was so weak..and I trusted my uncle. I'd known him all my life, after all. But maybe that wasn't right. Should I trust him? Does the simple fact that he's family win over the instinct to run away from him?
Taking in my surroundings confused as ever, I noticed Tim had brought me into a fancy bathroom type room, with a sink, a large counter, a toilet, and a shower, but no mirror. Instead of where a mirror would be, a huge blanket hung over the wall. Looking up at him, I asked, slightly more aware now, "What's this all about?" He smiled, and slowly removed the blanket from where the mirror should be. As my reflection stared back at me in shock, I finally understood why I had been given this "surgery".