I wake up and I don't understand. I am in a small, square room. Everything is white. The walls, floor, lights, bed, and even my clothes are white. It is dreamlike. I can't remember who I am or why I am here. Nothing is familiar, but everything is safe. The room is confusing though. Sometimes I would look away and the room would slightly change as if I hadn't fully understood it the first time. I had never seen this place before, but I knew it was a hospital. In the bed, I noticed a black envelope lying next to me. I pick it up and inspect the thing. Making sure no one was around, I decide to open it. All it says, in large black letters is "If you're reading this, that means you have awoken. Inside the envelope is a syringe with a small dose of a chemical that will kill you in seconds without pain, use it. DO NOT GO OUTSIDE."
I don't understand. The room is safe, I want to stay inside. Why would I even go outside? I check inside the package and sure enough, their is a syringe with a meager amount of yellow liquid. Suddenly, a young nurse barges in through the door. I hide the envelope, not knowing whether she is friend or foe. She makes some adjustments to my bed as I just sit there confused. She goes around the room and fiddles with some stuff that I don't understand. Last I checked, the room was mostly empty except for the bed. I close my eyes and she does her job. She begins to leave, but turns to me and quietly says "any day now" and walks out. As she opens the door, I see a bright light coming from the other end, but it quickly shuts, shielding my view.
I look at the letter again. "DO NOT GO OUTSIDE." But why? The room feels so comfortable, yet I am a curious natured person, I think. I decide to get up and look around. I lean my legs to the left side of the bed and stand up. I look at the wall where there is a mirror. Huh, I had not noticed that was there before. I carry with me the envelope and look in the mirror. To my horror and surprise, my face has a few red lashes and scars. I have stitches running down my neck and other cuts along my body. I do not feel pained nor relieved at my condition. The room is soft and I feel comforted. Should I go outside? I wonder. What is out there? Should I be afraid? What happened to me? I look at the letter once again. Suddenly I hear voices. They are familiar, but I am not sure of who they are. Outside the door, I hear something. A woman's voice says "Is there hope?" to which a man replies "I think it's time to pull the plug." Crying, lots of crying. I want to help them. I look at the letter a third time and throw it on the ground. I open the door and a bright flash of light blinds my vision.
I wake up and I understand.