scene twenty-one - medical - year nine

They didn’t know where they were. It felt too early for them to be in bed, but there was some sort of cold blanket covering their torso—it was too small, and refused to hug their entire body. There was something warm and slightly greasy combing through their hair, starting at the roots and travelling down to the nape of their neck, resting for a moment before returning to where it began. Something cold and wet was plastered onto their forehead, and something else, large and moving from time to time, was underneath the side of their head. The way they were positioned was causing the cold, wet thing to slowly slide from its position, a millimetre at a time, onto whatever was supporting their neck.

“What… where the fuck…” The words slipped from their lips, stuttering over each other, as if they’d been asleep for as long as they felt like they’d been. “Fuck… feel like… hit by a truck… Christ… ”