Chapter One: Awakening

Chapter One: Waking Up

A strong odor brought her slowly back into consciousness. Although it reminded her vividly of chlorine, there was an added, nameless scent that made it sickening. A steady, annoying "beep-beep-beep" intruded upon her ears from somewhere around her. There was an echoing of voices around her; their soft murmurs crept in as she slowly regained consciousness. A bright light was beginning to erase the darkness her eyelids had created, adding to the ache in her head.

With the light, she became aware of pain sweeping slowly up her body. She let out a groan from her parched throat.

"She's waking. Call the doctor." The woman’s words were clear.

"Melanie, can you hear me? Melanie?" The same voice inquired; it was slowly registering.

She felt something on her shoulder. It squeezed lightly, giving her a lifebuoy to hold onto and be towed to the safety that the USS Consciousness would provide.

That's my name... She thought. Someone’s talking to me…

Another groan slipped through her lips as the pain increased. She felt like someone was pounding nails into the inside of her skull, like a jagged knife was making its mark on her thigh, and that something was trying to expand her ribs beyond what was comfortable. The pain was immense.

She found the strength to open her eyes and found herself in a pink room with floral wallpaper. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see machines, an IV tube leading down to her arm with a clear liquid inside.

"Hospital." She croaked as she slowly understood where she was.

"Yes, Melanie. You're in the hospital, that's right." The voice paused and she heard movement beside her. “I’m going to tilt the bed up, let me know if it’s too much.”

Slowly the bed rose at an angle and stopped before she was fully upright, leaving her at a slight tilt but enough that she wasn't flat on her back.

A pair of hands bearing a paper cup of water appeared in front of her face.

“Drink slowly,” The nurse commanded.

The cool liquid slid down her throat, erasing the stale taste in her mouth; it took all her self-control not to gulp it down. It felt so good on her arid throat.

“Alright, let’s see what the machines are saying.”

She turned her head to watch a female doctor reading the monitors and writing things down on a silver clipboard. She had graying red hair and black horn rimmed glasses that fit her well. She hummed a little; she had a good, melodic voice that was comforting. She gave a motherly vibe. If it wasn’t for the pain, the doctor would’ve hummed her right back into sleep.

The doctor set the clipboard down on the bed and began a routine checkup.

Melanie shuddered when the doctor's cool hands lifted her arm to take her blood pressure. She muttered something to herself and wrote it down before moving to the end of the bed. She watched as the doctor moved to the other side of the bed and pulled the sheet back. Looking down, Melanie saw that her right thigh was bandaged thickly. Crimson was seeping into the material.

"Tisk, tisk. That won't do." The Doctor looked up at her and smiled soothingly. "You'll have to have those stitches checked out and bandages changed."

The doctor moved to her waist. She pushed up the hospital gown gently until it was just covering her breasts, revealing bruised ribs.

”Are they broken?" Melanie asked, staring at the dark purple and yellow discoloration.

"No," She said shaking her head. "You got lucky. They are bruised pretty badly though. So far we haven't found any signs of a fracture but with the swelling it's difficult to tell sometimes." She ran her fingertips over the colored skin drawing a gasp from Melanie as sharp pains washed through her again. "The swelling is going down. They are harm free—just bruised a bit."

"What happened to me?"

"You were in an accident, Melanie. Do you remember?" The doctor asked, glancing at her with a new concern.

"With...cars?" She could remember the screeching of tires, flash of headlights.

"Yes. With about eight other cars from what I heard. It’s been on the news and in the papers ever since it happened." The doctor paused to write something on the clipboard. She could see “Doctor M. Walker” embroidered on the woman’s vest. "Ryan, your husband, has been dying to see you for weeks now. He's been so worried. Would you mind seeing him now? Or would you prefer to rest a bit more?"

Panic instantly overtook her as a cold shiver ran down her spine. Her gut twisted uncomfortably at this realization only adding to the sickening pain she felt.

"Weeks?"




~~~Want more? Continue on! "Chapter Two: How It Happened"