Test-Part 8: The White Room
I woke up in a room. A white room. With a bed. But I couldn’t see. Everything around me was white and blurry. I could see the outline of other beds and people and…I don’t even want to know what that could be. Where am I? That’s a question that keeps coming up. A person…or thing…comes up to me. Whom ever this is, is wearing a blue suit like thing. Something cold pricks my arm, and everything fades to black.
I wake up, yet again, but this time the once bright white room is now a dark grey room. The beds are there. My vision is back…ish, and there are curtains surrounding my bed. They are the same color that the mysterious arm pricker was wearing. I don’t know how long I sat there. Waiting. Waiting for someone to, I don’t know, prick my arm again, carry me home, tell me everything’s going to be okay? Standing wasn’t an option. I tried to sit up and pain shot through…well…everywhere up to my head and made me lie back down. What to do, what to do? What do you do when you can’t move, and can barely see? Scream.
I screamed so loud I’m sure Pluto could hear me, but I got results. Ten men, thank god they were men and not things, ran up to me asking a million questions.
“Are you hurt?” One asked
“What’s going on?” The other said
This went on for about five minutes until they finally shut up.
“Listen,” I said between gritted teeth, “I just want you to tell me where I am, what happened to me, and where I’m going. The last thing I remember is being in the test and seeing old memories, so tell me what is going on!”
They sat there for a long time exchanging glances. Did I say something wrong? I don’t even know anymore.
“Um…that whole memory thing…yeah they never happened. You’ve been in a coma for several days. The last thing that actually happened to you was breaking the glass in the test. You weren’t supposed to do that. You were supposed to kill the girl and move on, but instead you had to go and break the rules.”
I was in shock. A COMA ARE YOU KIDDING ME HOW! I took that anger and bit my cheeks. I don’t need another shot.
“So what now? Are you going to kill me?” I asked knowing that if you don’t “pass” the test–you die.
“Why would we do that? You passed” said a man with blood still shiny on his uniform. I guess surgery had to wait.
How could I win!? I was at a loss for words. I just sat there stuttering until I could finally get some words out. “How could I have won? I broke the rules?”
“Well I’m guessing the Masters thought what you did was smart enough to win without even finishing the test. Congratulations.”
I was completely dumbfounded. “But wait what happened to me? How did I get in the hospital?” I asked realizing that was the question I should have asked a long time ago.
“Well…when you broke the glass floor you landed in a pile…of glass. There are still shards in you. You are scheduled for your 5th surgery tomorrow morning.”
5th! 5 surgeries. My lord. Then I actually looked at myself for the first time in–days–weeks–months! I don’t even know anymore, but I saw two casts. One on my leg and one on my arm. I guess I didn’t have a smooth landing.
The doctor guys gave me another shot so I could sleep. I had to get my rest. According to another doctor tomorrow, after surgery, I was going to The House.