1
Emily
Idon't remember buying a new alarm clock. Or getting drunk last night. I have to assume the two are related – it’s the only explanation for the incessant pounding in my head.
Keeping my eyes closed, I reached out, blindly feeling for the alarm, my arm feeling strangely weak and weighted. Instead of the wooden side table that sat beside my bed, my fingertips encountered cool, sleek metal.
I frowned, attempting to force my heavy eyes open. My success was limited as I snapped them shut, wincing at the stabbing pain the light shot through my eyes into the depth of my brain.
Am… am I dead?
No, you ninny, no one feeling this level of pain could be dead.
I pried one eye open, then the other, blinking and squinting as I took in the unfamiliar room. White walls and grey floors with tubes and wires that ran from beeping machines to me.
I blinked.
Shit. Is this… a hospital?
A nurse hovered at my side.
"Emily? Emily, can you hear me?"
I lifted a hand, moving with a slow lethargy as I reached up to touch my face.
Definitely not dead.
My fingers traced dressings stuck to my forehead, and as I explored the dress. Their size surprised me, as did the pain that arched through my skull as I grazed my fingers across the bandage.
The nurse reached for my hand, pulling it away from my head as she continued to ask if I could hear her.
I swallowed, nausea swirling in my stomach.
What happened?
"I can hear you," I tried to say, but the words sounded both muffled and jumbled as they left my mouth.
"Welcome back,"' the nurse smiled, reaching over my head. I heard a buzzer go off as she withdrew. "I'm just calling the doctor, and we'll get you all checked over."
"Where's Cal?" I tried to ask, feeling my mouth struggling to form words.
"Just rest for a minute, Emily. Let your body adjust."
I closed my eyes, a distressed whimper sneaking up my throat. Between the lights, the sounds and the constant throbbing, stabbing pain in my head, I had no idea how to cope with this level of sensory overload.
"Mrs. Jameson? I'm Doctor Jenkins. Can you open your eyes for me?"
Cal’s mother is here? Oh no!
I forced my lids open, immediately shuttering them against the light, then reopening them at half-mast.
"Good." He had a kindly face, grey hair, and more wrinkles than I expected for a man of his age. "I'm just going to check you over. Can you tell me your name?"
"Emily Knight," I whispered, the words slightly more audible.
He paused in the act of reaching for my hand.
"Knight?" he repeated.
