Waking Up

A quick writing exercise. Just some fun with adjectives and a quick plot line that came into mind. May expand into a short story, may not. Input well-received!

It's ok. You're ok. Find your toes. Find your toes and wiggle them. Move up from there and figure out what the hell is going on.

The phenomenon or saying of one's head "spinning" only revealed its true meaning to Claudia when she blinked one delicate almond-shaped eye open. Stark fluorescent light beat itself into her retina's and made it seem like her entire body filled up with the white, blinding light. With it came pain just as intense and consuming. Instantly a sharp gasp passed her lips and moist wetness soaked through her t-shirt as she reflexively curled onto her side, clamping her eyes shut again.

Somewhere in the southern regions of her body there was a sensation. Bone-deep aches prevented the delicate blonde from deciding if the sensation was coming from her knees or her feet. There! There it was. She was moving her toes. They reluctantly obeyed the commands of her determined yet bombarded brain. A dense cloud of fog settled into her mind quickly as she fought for further control over her body.

Good. Now try to sit up.

After several long minutes of cold wetness on her side and a continued battle for control over her muscles, Claudia sat up slowly. She waited until completely upright on the strangely sponge-like cushion she was on to open her eyes. This time, her head tilted down, the fluorescent light didn't bombard her eyes with pain. Blinking, she took in the dirty appearance of her jeans. No. Not her jeans. She wasn't wearing them anymore. Replacing her jeans were a tight, spandex sort of fabric that came down to her ankles like capris. The same fabric was on her chest, soaked through on her left side with wetness and bits of dirt.

Her mouth felt dry and there was an ache in her teeth; much like the ache that she felt in each of her limbs. Something had happened. She hadn't any idea what but glancing around her, it became obvious fast that she wasn't at the theatre where she was expected to audition for an acting role today. Was it even still today? How much time had passed?

Don't panic. Just breathe and find your way to the road.

The wetness that had soaked her new top came from the green growth beneath her. It wasn't quite grass, she realized as she ran her fingers through it while gathering her strength to stand. It felt...mossy...but thicker and more wide-spread under her than any petite or delicate moss she had seen before. Around her seemed to be a forest of some kind.

The air she breathed, though it burned her sore lungs, tasted fresh and clean. Her eyes struggled to focus on much outside of ten feet or so around her. What was crystal clear was that her glasses were nowhere in her vicinity. Standing slowly, she rubbed her face with her hands and felt her hair, freed from its typical pony-tail, fell wet and tangled around her shoulders. Much of what she saw was blurry and hazy, but as she took her first few hesitant steps forward a sudden loud whirring sound shook the ground beneath her, sending her crashing back down into the moss with a startled cry.

The air that was seconds ago calm and crisp began to whip around her in a frenzy and her body protested painfully as she scrambled frantically towards the only shelter she saw; a humongous hollowed out log. Her breath came in ragged gasps as the welcomed darkness of the log enveloped her. It was as she leaned into the cool wooden wall, panicked and scared, that she realized what the whirring sound reminded her of. An exhaust fan. Like when she burned yet another skillet of some ill-attempted meal and the smoke threatened to choke her, the fan above her humble gas stove sucked the toxic smoke out of the house. Strange the things you think of mid-panic.

What the hell is going on?

The End

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