The WakingMature

“She’s waking up.”

“Sshh, you don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“I’m scared.”

Whispered voices filled my head and hurt my ears. Who was I? Where was I? What happened? My head hurt. My ears hurt. My eyes hurt as light burst into view. I was scared too. I could hear music coming from my left. Or was it my right? I couldn’t tell. I couldn’t even figure out my own name. The bed I was on lifted up mechanically, filling my aching muscles, bones and joints with agony.

I squinted, trying to keep the light entering my eyes to a minimum. Three people stood to my side- left or right; I still wasn’t sure. The tallest, skinniest person pulled headphones out of his ears and I could hear the loud beats of his music coming through the two circular, black, small objects.

“What is going on?” I croaked; my voice a stranger to me. The other two exchanged worried glances. I stared at them, hoping to find solace in their smiles. But I could see that this was no place for smiles. Getting nowhere with the older yet smaller people who were crowding my bed, I searched the boy’s face for answers.

“Hey, hey, hey, little sis,” the boy- the tall skinny boy said. I cringed at his loud voice. “How are things?”

The End

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