I murmured, “As many as we can.”
“Mr. Ambrose, you have to open your eyes.”
That damn voice again. And that name...it was wrong. That wasn’t my name.
Once again, I tried to ignore the tugging, wanting to fall backward into sleep, but this time the gates were shut. I couldn’t slip.
I hovered there—in an in-between world where darkness steadily became lighter and the world slowly solidified.
The pain was still blanketed, the tiredness not as consuming, but there was strangeness everywhere.
Strange smells.
Strange noises.
Strange people.
Where am I?
“That’s it, wake up. We won’t bite.”
I cringed against the false, upbeat tone. I didn’t tolerate insincerity and whoever encouraged me hid his true thoughts.
My condition was the first sense to return with full force, feeding off the man beside me—the man who cared, worried, and clinically assessed me. In his mind, I belonged to him. My progress, my recovery—it was all testament to his skills as my...
Doctor.
The unfamiliar place and unfamiliar smells suddenly made a lot more sense.
Bright lights were brighter and the blanket hiding me from pain lived deep in my veins.
Drugs.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe.
But I was alive.
And mistakenly being called Mr. Ambrose.
The beeping sound flurried faster as I slipped back into all facets of my body. Fingers to fingers. Toes to toes. It was like dressing in expensive cashmere after weeks of wearing scratchy wool. It washome.
“He’s coming to.”
“That’s it. We’re here. No need to fear. You’re safe.”
The doctor’s voice reached into the remaining darkness in my brain, plucking me to the surface. My eyes were heavy drapes, musty and full of moths, refusing to open.
A wash of frustration came from nowhere—tugging me faster from my haze, slamming me into a body I no longer wanted.
My eyes opened.
“Great. Awesome job, Mr. Ambrose.”
I promptly closed them again. The room was too bright, too much to see.
“Give it a moment and the discomfort will pass.” Someone patted me on the shoulder. The drumbeat resonated through my body, awakening everything else.
I tried again, squinting this time to limit the amount of light.
