As I looked around, I found myself in a hospital room that defied all expectations. It wasn't your typical sterile, white-walled medical chamber.
No, this place screamed extravagance, like a penthouse suite in a luxury hotel. Plush furnishings cradled me, tasteful artwork adorned the walls, and a massive window treated me to breathtaking views of the city skyline.
It was clear that the original inhabitant of this body had been swimming in wealth.
But before I could soak in the opulence, A relentless throb began to pulse through my head, a relentless beat that seemed determined to crack my skull open. I cried out in pain, my hands clutching at my head as though I could somehow stop the torment.
*Throb**Throb*
The pain was relentless, and with each throb, it felt like a sledgehammer was assaulting my brain. I groaned, unable to understand where this torment was coming from. It was like a vicious storm raging inside my head.
"Arrrgh!"
And then, like a tidal wave crashing over me, memories began to flood my mind. It was an overwhelming experience, as though I had been granted access to someone else's life, their thoughts, emotions, and experiences.
The memories were vivid, like scenes from a movie playing out in my mind. I saw moments of joy and sorrow, of love and heartache.
But amidst this whirlwind of recollections, there was a conspicuous gap. The past six months were shrouded in a thick, impenetrable fog, their details eluding my grasp.
It was as if a curtain had been drawn, hiding a significant portion of this person's life from me.
"Hmm...."
As if this bizarre situation wasn't enough, a conviction seized me – I had been transported into the world of the novel I had been devouring before the plane crash.
"Saga of the Flame Legend"
the title that now resonated with my very existence. It was as though reality had collided with fiction, and I had landed squarely in the middle.
*whooosh*
While I was still processing this mind-bending revelation, the hospital room's door swung open, and a nurse rushed in.
She was clearly taken aback by my sudden awakening, her eyes wide with surprise. Without a word, she hurried out, presumably to inform the doctor.
Left alone in my bewildering predicament, I couldn't help but contemplate the whirlwind of memories and this surreal notion of being transplanted into the world of a novel. It felt like a plot straight out of one of those web novels I used to read for hours on end.
Not long after, the doctor entered, his expression a blend of astonishment and confusion. He conducted a thorough examination, poking and prodding me as though I were a medical marvel.
To his amazement, there were no apparent physical abnormalities. Just a day ago, "I" had been on the brink of death, and now, I was miraculously on the mend.
In a dramatic twist that wouldn't have been out of place in a web novel, three more individuals stormed into the ward, their frantic panting evidence of a sprint.
It was the family of the body I now inhabited:
Ethan Covert, the brother; Benjamin Covert, the father; and Rebecca Covert, the mother.
Their faces ran the gamut from tears to sheer relief, their emotions bursting forth like a tidal wave.
*sob**sob
Rebecca, in particular, couldn't hold back her tears upon seeing me conscious. Ethan followed suit, and Benjamin, though less overtly emotional, had red-rimmed eyes that told a story of their own. I was now in the presence of the family of the person whose life I had inexplicably become a part of.
Remarkably, the name of this body was identical to my previous life – Lucian.
*Ahem*
The doctor coughed to gain some attention and after explaining my six-month memory loss, recommended I see a psychiatrist.
Ethan's reaction to this revelation was cryptic,
he muttered,
"Maybe it's better not to remember anything,"
leaving me with more questions than answers.
Then, the bombshell hit – "I" had attempted suicide just five days ago and had been in critical condition until yesterday.
The weight of this revelation pressed down on me, and I struggled to comprehend the emotional turmoil this family had endured during that time.
Rebecca, as if sensing the storm of emotions raging inside me, pulled me into a tight, comforting embrace. I felt a complex mix of emotions – gratitude for their warmth and affection, yet guilt for inhabiting a life that wasn't originally mine.
Back in my previous life, I had been an orphan, and this kind of familial bond was something I had yearned for more than anything.
But, it felt like I was living a lie, and the guilt threatened to consume me.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and soon, I was sobbing uncontrollably.
The hospital room transformed into a whirlwind of emotions, and I found myself at its tumultuous center,
As I wept, Rebecca's embrace tightened, offering both comfort and solace. Ethan and Benjamin exchanged glances, their own emotions worn openly on their faces.
*ahem*
The doctor, who had been a silent observer to this emotional tempest, cleared his throat again and addressed the family.
"It's quite unusual,"
he began, his voice carrying a sense of wonder,
"but I must stress that the young man – Lucian – seems to be physically healthy now. However, the memory loss is a concern, and I strongly recommend that he undergoes therapy to address the emotional trauma he's been through."
Benjamin nodded solemnly, his hand still resting on my shoulder.
"We'll do whatever it takes to help him,"
he vowed.
Ethan, who had been uncharacteristically silent until now, finally spoke up.
"Maybe it's a blessing that he doesn't remember the past few months,"
he said the same thing again, his voice tinged with more sadness,
"It might be better this way."
His words hung in the air, casting a shadow of ambiguity over the room.
'What had transpired in those missing six months?'
I thought,
'Why had 'I' attempted suicide?'
And how had I ended up in this surreal situation where I was living someone else's life? These questions swirled in my mind like a never-ending storm.
Rebecca continued to hold me, her embrace a lifeline in the midst of the uncertainty that enveloped us.
It was as if she wanted to convey that no matter what had happened in the past, I was now a part of their family, and they were here to support me.