The room was dim, with just the faintest light shining through the window. He was on the bed, staring out into the shadows. He kept telling himself it was just him, but he knew that it wasn't. He knew that it wasn't just him because he could hear it too. His arms were wrapped around his pillow, and he was sobbing quietly.
Where was he? What was he doing here? Why was he here? These were questions that he hoped to never have to answer.
He was alive, the only thing he could still say for certain was that he was alive. He didn't know how, nor did he know how he survived the accident. Neither of these things really mattered because he was alive, and that was all that mattered to him.
He still didn't know what had happened. All he knew was that he woke up in a hospital bed, bleeding from his head and unable to move. He could hear things around him, but he knew them to be strange sounds. He couldn't focus, and he didn't know what was going on. The last thing he remembered was waking up after the accident, looking at the ceiling and then suddenly, everything went black.
It was all so strange, things were still blurry for him, but he found that he recognized some of the faces in the room, one in particular was from heaven. Heaven? No, it couldn't have been Heaven. Maybe it was just a bad dream. Maybe he was still sleeping and everything would go back to normal.
He had heard of people with brain damage, people who slipped into some type of coma. Maybe that was all that was wrong with him. Maybe in time he would get better.
Heath sighed and set back on the bed. He had no idea how long he had been here or where he even was. He had been in the hospital for a while, but he still didn't know how long. He didn't even know how he got here, who brought him or anything else. That was just it, he didn't know anything. He only knew what he knew, and that was everything.
He was not delusional, whenever he was in danger, he always knew. It was just that he knew that he was in danger and nothing more. He didn't know how to get help, he only knew where to run. It was his main strategy, he knew that he was here for so long that something had to happen soon. He didn't know why, but he just knew that something was going to happen.
He wondered what he had been talking about when he went to sleep. What had he been dreaming about? He still didn't know if that was important information, he only knew that it was something that he had said while asleep. Maybe it had been part of the dream, maybe he was just talking to himself. Maybe he really was still in a dream, he pondered this more than anything else.
What if maybe the accident never happened? What if somehow he was still asleep in his bedroom at home?
Wait. Would he even be able to recognize his house? He wasn't at home, he never had been. He glanced down at his shirt and noticed something written across it. He stared at the words, trying to make sense of them. He caught only a few words here and there, but that was all.
It was strange though, he knew he had been in the hospital, but he knew that he had come from somewhere else. Had he been in a car accident? Was that even possible?
Maybe he needed to figure out where he was and find out how he made it there. But where was he? It felt like he was in a hospital room, but it was too bright and too clear to be one. He knew that he was here, but he didn't know why he was here.
He needed to try and find out where he was. Maybe if he could figure that out he could get out of here. He needed to find a place to start. He looked around the room and attempted to find some sort of clue.
He was in a bed near the window. It was a white room, with white curtains, a white ceiling and white walls. He needed clues, something that could two him. There was something on the table by his bed.
He stared at his shirt and realized something. He turned it around and read the other side. He was comprehending it but it was slowly.
He was in a hospital. He was in a hospital, and he was injured. He was in a room, on a bed. There was a window, a bedside table, a lamp. A television, a tripod for the camera, some wires and objects that he didn't recognize.
He was in a hospital, but he didn't know why. No, that wasn't entirely true. He knew why he was here, but he didn't know how. He didn't know why, but he didn't know who brought him. He knew that he was injured, but he didn't know why or how. There was nothing he could even begin to understand. He only knew that he was here.
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