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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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Present Day
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I blinked up at the blinding lights, the smell of something sterile and sharp filling my nose. My side throbbed with a deep, pulsing pain, and when I reached down, my fingers brushed stiff bandages. I'd been shot—at least, I think I had. But everything before waking up here is a fog, like a dream I can't quite remember. I don't recognize this place. I don't know these people in scrubs who pass by without looking at me. My chest tightens with panic. Where am I? Why won't anyone tell me what's going on? My hands won't stop shaking. I feel so alone, like I've been dropped into someone else's life. I just want someone to say my name, to tell me I'm not losing my mind. But all I hear is silence and the echo of my own fear.

This is getting ridiculous. I've been stuck in this cold, sterile medical room or whatever this place is for five hours straight, and no one has bothered to give me any real updates. Well, okay, there was that nurse who came in twice, once to jab me with an injection that left my arm sore and another time to bring me some questionable-looking food that I have no intention of eating.

I hate it here. The sterile smell of antiseptic and the cold hum of machines make everything feel wrong. The pain in my arm is sharp, constant—each throb reminding me of how helpless I am in this moment. I should be somewhere else, anywhere but here, trapped in a place I don't even recognize. There's something unsettling about the quiet too, like it's hiding something, a threat I can't see. I try to ignore the unease creeping through me, but it's impossible. The fear isn't just about the wound, it's about everything else—the feeling that I'm not in control, that whatever happens next is out of my hands. And that's the worst part.

A cold dread settles in my chest. I don't know this place, or the people walking around me like I'm just another patient. Nothing is familiar, and the more I try to make sense of it, the more my thoughts twist and blur. It's like my mind is slipping out of reach, and that scares me more than the pain. The fear of not knowing—of not remembering—feels heavier than anything else. Something is wrong, and deep down, I can feel it pressing in on all sides.

It feels like my mind is splintering. Every sound is too loud, every movement too sharp, like the world is pressing in on me from all sides. There's a buzzing in my head that won't stop, a static that makes it hard to think straight. I can't remember how I got here, can't hold on to anything solid. Faces blur, voices mix together, and all I can feel is this rising panic that I'm slipping—fast. Not just scared or confused, but unraveling. I can feel myself teetering on the edge of something I can't come back from.

The silence stretches endlessly, and I feel like I'm trapped in some kind of mental hospital—disoriented, cut off from the world, with only broken pieces of memory to keep me company. Everything in my head is hazy, scattered fragments I can't fit together no matter how hard I try. I want to understand how I ended up here, why everything feels so far away, why my mind won't give me anything real to hold on to.

The door creaks open, interrupting my spiral of confusion. My eyes snap to the sound, muscles tensing on instinct. For a moment, my breath catches—standing in the doorway is a man in a crisp white coat, the kind of good-looking that would make anyone's heart skip a beat. He doesn't look like he belongs in a place like this, not with that effortless charm and model-perfect posture. His hair is perfectly styled, not a strand out of place, and his dark eyes hold a warmth that feels practiced—comforting, but not entirely real. There's something distant behind them, like he's watching me from the other side of thick glass.

"Hello, querida," he greets me with a disarming smile. "How are you feeling? Any pain?"

I sigh, trying to mask my impatience, though it prickles beneath my skin. His presence only sharpens the surreal edges of this place—everything too clean, too calm, like it's been scrubbed of reality. "Well, I don't have any pain right now, but how much longer do I need to stay here? I'm bored."