Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
That
was the first sound that Denise heard as she slowly gained consciousness. The
bright white lights infiltrated her eyes, forcing her to squint, trying to
block out all light. The beeping continued, keeping time with her heart.
She
was alive.
That’s
what she reminded herself as she ever so slowly came back to consciousness, as
she slowly realized that she was in a hospital, tied up to God knows how many
machines. Her eyes opened, and she could see, if only blurry at first, that she
was in a hospital bed. She’d been here once, years ago when she’d had her
tonsils removed, and recognized it as UC Irvine Medical Center. Out the window,
the sky was clear, and the tall palms swayed in the winds and the traffic from
the 5 nearby.
There
was knock on the door, and as is usual of hospitals, they didn’t wait for a
response before walking in. A nurse dressed in blues holding a chart stepped
in, looked at her, and mumbled something about her being awake now, and then
checked the monitor.
“How
are you feeling?”
“Good.
I’m sorry, but what happened?”
The
nurse looked at Denise with no expression on her thin face. “You were in an
accident. There’s a state psychologist outside waiting to talk to you. Can I send him in?”
An
accident?
Denise’s
last memory before waking up was fuzzy. Had she even been driving? She could
recall almost nothing, just the pain of stiffness in her joints.
How long had she been unconscious?
(Author's Note: I wrote this portion for a Noir piece in class, but I actually intend to use in it another piece I'm writing in which a person can delete memories of a person.)
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