There was a white blindness all around me; the kind that you see in those big rooms with the padded walls. This unnaturally bleached white, stared back, right as I winced open my eyes. My eyes being the only light colored in the family shut back right up when the unnatural white shot in.
Where am I?
I thought. Last thing I knew, wait. There is no last thing I knew. I panicked.
Where am I?
I scanned the whiteness; there was a metal bed which I was laying on and some itchy uncomfortable sheets which had clothed me, and a small might-as-well-not-be-there pillow. All impeccably white, impeccably clean. I had absolutely no knowledge of where I was or where I came from or how I got here, but I was comforted by the fact that there were four walls, a door and a ceiling. At least I could leave.
I got up, but fell down almost immediately. My body was now on the cold marbled floor. Even the floor was white, had anyone every walked in before?
My falling must’ve created quite a bit of noise because next thing I know I hear some keys and the door opens. I caught a glimpse of the other side of the door, it was painted a light summery green, it went great with the bleached white in my opinion.
A female came through the door. She had bright red hair, I remember because it was the only thing [aside from my blue eyes and her green ones] that wasn’t white in the room. Her fitted dress was white with pockets that seemed to never have suffered from an ink spill although she kept pens in there, [she used one to fill out some notes on a piece of paper]. He stockings were also white, as well as her keds that seemed to be covered by white plastic. I recall a swish-swish noise of mumbled shuffled movements. I also vaguely recall her speaking.
“How are you feeling?”
I believe she said, right after helping me up and onto my now cold iron makeshift bed. I don’t know if I mumbled something, I just felt the bed and felt the cold the empty white room brought , making me just close my eyes and fade into a dark abyss accompanied by another vast room of nothing.