My eyelids felt as heavy as stone. The light above seared into my vision, blinding me momentarily.
My head throbbed like it had been slammed with a boulder. I couldn't think straight. In fact, I couldn't even think at all.
Who am I?
Where am I?
My mind swirled with the weight of questions, but no answers came. Only pain.
It was then that the smell hit me.
....rancid, like decay and filth. It clung to the air, almost suffocating. My nose wrinkled in disgust but a moment later, I realized the stench was coming from me. From the sheets wrapped around me.
I blinked, trying to make sense of my surroundings. I was in a massive room with a large chandelier hanging above that casted light across the dark grey walls. The room was almost empty, except some scattered medical equipments surrounding the bed—
an ECG monitor, IV stands, feeding tubes, urinary catheter. How could I tell what these things were? The knowledge was there but I couldn't connect the dots.
My stomach twisted in hunger but even worse than that was the thirst. I needed water. Badly.
My fingers twitched as I tried to move, and after what felt like an eternity, I managed to lift them.
I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the light, but that's when I finally saw the state I was in.
My wrist....so thin. It was almost skeletal. My skin was pale, almost translucent. It stretched tight over bone. I could see every vein, every outline. I looked like a skeleton, barely alive.
I fought to sit up and my arms trembled with the effort, but I couldn't even manage that. Defeated, I collapsed back onto the bed, panting.
My gaze wandered to the tubes and wires attached to me. The IV was disconnected, the machines quiet. How long had I been like this?
Then, through the door, I heard voices.
"Is she dying soon?"
"Of course she is. Her life supports have already been cut off since yesterday and our healer wolves have also given up on her already. "
"When Master gets back next week, we'll probably be planning a funeral."
"Let's not go into that room until a couple days later after we're sure that she's really dead. "
"Who would even want to go in there to check her.... it smells like rotting corpse in there. "
The voices echoed from beyond the door. I strained to listen, my heart pounding in my chest. Were they talking about me?
"Healer wolves"? "Master"? The words didn't make sense, but the phrases "life support" and "rotting corpse" hit me hard. That smell, that rot... It was me.
Adrenaline surged through me as I tried to move again. My toes twitched, then wiggled. A small victory.
I slid my legs off the bed, gripping the nightstand to steady myself. The plain white gown I was wearing clung to my body, and my legs—thin as twigs—
I stared at them, disbelief and horror filled my chest. How was I supposed to walk with these two damn sticks?
The moment I put weight on my legs, my knees buckled and I was sent crashing to the floor. I hit the cold floor and pain exploded through my body. But I gritted my teeth, deciding to try again.
Arghhh.... come on Abigail. Stand up.
The name slipped out so naturally.
Abigail?... I seemed to have finally recall my own name! I might have had a habit of talking to myself using this name so frequently, considering how the memory came so easily even to my numb brain.
Before the noise of footsteps outside had gone far away, I needed to get outside. In a hurry, I struggled to stand up....only to fall again. I tried the third time. But I could barely move my legs this time anymore.
Damn it.... seems like I just gotta crawl.
I dropped to my hands and knee and forced myself forward. Sweat dripped from my face and my breath came in ragged gasps. Every inch felt like a mile, but I kept going, crawling toward the door. I needed to get out. I needed help.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, my hand touched the cold metal of the door handle. My fingers were slick with sweat, shaking, but I managed to grip it and pull. The door creaked open with a groan.
Creeeaaak.
I leaned against the doorframe, my chest heaving. My throat was so dry it felt like I hadn't had water in days—maybe weeks. I opened my mouth, my voice barely a rasp.
"Water… please…"
The two maids just outside froze. Their backs stiffened, their heads slowly turning toward me. The look on their faces was one of pure, unfiltered horror.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" One of them screamed so loudly it felt like it tore through my brain.
"Ghost! It's a ghost!" The other one shrieked, her face pale as she backed away. "Isn't she dead yet?!! Wait. ...did she come back from death?!!!"
"Shut up.... Emma. That's not a ghost. She has woken up from the coma. "
"Even after cutting life support?! "
"We need to go inform miss Athena, now! "
I tried to speak again, "water... I need water..."
But they didn't even hear me. They turned and ran, leaving me still thirsty, still aching. Couldn't they have brought me a glass of water before freaking out?
I slumped against the doorframe, panting. My legs trembled with the effort of standing. But I needed to move. Water. I had to find it myself.
I stumbled forward, feeling more like a zombie than a person. I reached an indoor balcony and peered over. The ground floor seemed miles away.
You can do this Abigail.
My vision spun as I tried to focus on the stairs, my knees threatening to give out beneath me.
Shit.
I clutched the banister, my knuckles white, and began my slow descent. One step at a time. Every few steps, I collapsed, sitting down to catch my breath before forcing myself to rise again.
Halfway down, I heard a voice below. "Where the hell is this rotting smell coming from?! Did I not clean well? "
A woman rounded the corner, her face twisted in disgust, her nose scrunched up as she looked around. Her eyes landed on me, and she froze, her mouth falling open in shock.
"Luna?!!!! "
"Water," I whispered, reaching out with a trembling hand. "I just... need water…"
But my legs gave out. The last thing I saw was the ceiling rushing up to meet me as I collapsed, my vision fading to black.