MY EYES OPENED TO A BRIGHT, WHITE LIGHT. I WAS IN an unfamiliar bright white room. The wall beside me was covered in long white vertical blinds; over my head, the glaring lights blinded me. I was propped up on a hard, uneven bed—a bed with bumper rails. The pillows were flat, but lumpy. This definitely wasn't my room, or even my bed. My room wasn't this bright, and my bed didn't have rails. There was an annoying beeping somewhere close by. I hoped that the fact that I was still able to be annoyed meant that I was still alive.
My hands were all twisted up in clear tubes, and something was taped across my face (a dick? A pickle?), under my nose. I lifted my hand to rip it off, cursing it, and myself, and everything, aloud.
"Oh no you don't." And cool fingers caught my hand.