A lone spirit awakened surrounded by nothingness. At first, she thought she was blind. But as her eyes adjusted to the inky blackness, she realized there was nothing to see.
It was very dark and eerily silent. There were no ambient sounds. She felt as if she was floating, but she could not feel her limbs. 'Am I in a sensory deprivation tank?' She thought. 'No, that didn't make sense.'
She couldn't remember anything about herself. She didn't know who she was or where she was or why she was here. All she knew was that since she was now fully conscious and trying to understand her surroundings, there appeared an incessant buzzing in her ears that was painful. This compounded her already skull-splitting headache.
Perhaps thinking was discouraged in this place. She tried to relax and let her mind wander free from conscious direction. It appeared to decrease the pain somewhat.
But she was a problem-solver by nature, so she soon began pondering her puzzling situation again. And with every thought she had, the pain increased.
Suddenly, her vision cleared somewhat as if curtains were parted, and a scene was revealed to her. But the event before her was still hazy and distorted as if she were watching it through a fog or underwater.
At least the buzzing has softened to a low thrumming infrasound. It reverberated through her entire body making her feel slightly nauseous. It did not lessen the headache she was experiencing. She wondered if there was a way to stop.
She saw a pretty woman in her late thirties lying a hospital bed. She was connected to all sorts of monitors and other machines. Multiple bags of fluids dripped their contents into IVs in her arms.
The woman looked small and frail…and helpless. Her skin was so thin it was almost translucent, and it looked like it would tear at the slightest pressure or movement. People on blood thinners had skin like this. Those people would bruise easily as well, and this woman was no different. Dark purple bruises blossomed across the woman's skin from head to toes. 'Why was such a young woman on blood thinners?' the spirit thought.
She watched the scene dispassionately. She did not recognize the woman in the bed. Besides, it was like she was watching television show but had started in the middle of it. And, having no idea of the plot, she felt nothing for the characters in the drama.
Honestly, she wasn't sure she could feel anything anyway. She seemed to be simply a spirit in the void. She couldn't feel anything physically except the headache or emotionally. Any attempt at thinking caused her great discomfort. Best to watch the drama playing out before her and not concern herself with anything else.
She looked around the sterile hospital room. The room was more than twice the size of ordinary hospital rooms although it was made for only person. The woman would not have to share it with anyone else. She, or her family, must have money.
The size only emphasized that it was a barren wasteland devoid of any decorations or furnishings that would reflect the personality of the occupants. There were a few feeble attempts made to make it feel 'homey' and comfortable. But in reality, they fell far short of any real sense that a real human lived there.
The 'paintings' on the walls were obviously from a catalog and likely the same from room to room with little variation. Not actual paintings either but printed on canvas to mimic the appearance of having been painted. You didn't have to be an artist or art historian to know that they weren't actually created by hand. They reminded her of midgrade hotel room décor. Pretty, but bland and boring.
There were curtains of a cheap blue cotton meant to mimic silk and machine embroidered with a floral design in darker shades of blue. There were likely to have been purchased in bulk from a box store, not even from pseudo-expensive department store. And the curtains were tied back with faux pearls in a shade of blue not found in nature.
The venetian blinds were cream colored instead of antiseptic white like on other hospital floors. And they were wider too, with each blade almost two inches in height as opposed to the standard ½ or ¾ inch ones. How this was supposed to indicate luxury was a complete mystery.
The furnishings of the room were rather sparse as well. Aside from the hospital bed, there was only a shelf, table, and some chairs. Of course, that was probably to be expected.
Instead of a vinyl recliner, there was a faux leather chair and ottoman. Still, it was easier to clean than any other material and the brown color looked slightly better than the strange greenish blue so commonly seen in medical offices throughout the country. There were two other chairs of similar material that sat empty on the far side of the room. But they had no armrests and looked even less comfortable than the pseudo-recliner.
The main piece of furniture was standard throughout every hospital and nursing home in the country. It was the typical tray/table combination that could be raised and lowered to accommodate any needed height. And it had only one arm supporting it, so it could be rolled across the bed if the occupant wished to use it as a desk and/or serving tray. Otherwise, it could serve as a side table next to the bed. This was where this particular specimen stayed. The woman did not appear to be conscious, so there was no need for a desk. It was made of cheap yet sturdy materials that were meant to mimic the grain of wood, but it clearly was not.
There was a bookshelf of corkboard covered with a thin façade of real wood to give the appearance of quality. It looked sturdy enough until you tried to put anything on it other than the mock-porcelain vase of fake flowers that stood on the top of it looking sad and lonely all by itself.
Although the attempts at chicness and comfort fell far short of expectations, it was still a hospital room so it was to be expected that the décor could not be too expensive. Afterall, the likelihood of blood and other bodily fluids being spilled was too great. A common hazard in hospitals, of course.
Although it was an expensive private room, there weren't any personal touches. There were no photos of loved ones, no 'get well soon' cards, no balloons, no flowers, no stuffed animals sold in the hospital gift shop. There was nothing to indicate the identity, let alone the personality of the occupant. It was rather sad, really.
This woman appeared to be in a coma. Nevertheless, most families would have brought in a few keepsakes to make their loved ones feel comfortable and more at home, even if they couldn't appreciate it. Whoever this woman was, she had money but not loved ones.
The female spirit had no concept of time in the void and no way to track it. She assumed it was because she didn't need to. She didn't need to eat or sleep. She couldn't even close her eyes. So, even though she wasn't really interested, she had no choice but to watch the woman lying in the bed.
At regular intervals, nurses bustled about checking cords, taking vitals, cleaning her, and replacing IV bags. They were quick and efficient, but none took any extra time to even pity her. To them, she seemed little more than a piece of furniture they had to care for.
Occasionally, a doctor would come in, look at her charts, and maybe make a few adjustments to a machine or to treatment orders. They would cluck their tongues and shake their heads, but then leave to get on with their lives. Her condition remained the same irrespective of what they did. She remained stable, but she was not improving. But at least she wasn't getting worse either.
After an indeterminate amount of time, a visitor finally came to her room.
She was an attractive older woman in her early sixties. Perfectly coiffed and manicured, she was immaculately dressed in an expensive tailored suit and 5-inch stilettos. Not a hair or seam was out of place. And her makeup was thick, but flawless.
The older woman looked around the room briefly then sat down in the chair furthest from the hospital bed. She let out a heavy sigh then looked coldly at the younger woman lying unresponsive in front of her.
"I don't know why you must always embarrass the family like this." Her voice was cold and brittle and sharp as ice.
"Such a stupid accident." She sneered with disgust. "But that's just like you. You care nothing about the family legacy or reputation." Every word cut like daggers into the heart. If anyone other than the spirit in the void heard her that is.
"Such a waste of time and money" she grumbled looking around the room again. "But your grandfather was insistent. And we can't challenge him openly…yet." Her disdain for that man evident in her expression. She seemed to dislike him as much as she disliked the woman in the bed.
The unnaturally blonde woman looked back at the dark-haired fragile beauty who remained motionless as machines performed all of her bodies' vital functions.
"At least you've lost weight since you've been in that coma." She mocked. She, herself, was unnaturally thin. A lifetime of rarely eating and taking laxatives when she did, helped her maintain what she though was the perfect shape – straight as a board with the all the curves of a prepubescent girl.
As the drama played out before her, the spirit in the void realized that she was the woman in the hospital bed. And that nasty woman insulting her was her own biological mother!