Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

Everything is black. I feel nothing, nothing at all. Not even my own breath traveling it’s way from my core and out my nostrils. Nothing. I move my hand, it’s heavy. I rest my palm limply over my chest.

Thump, thump, thump.

There it is. Intuitively, I feel the need to check if I’m alive. Subconsciously, I grip the article of clothing over my chest before letting my hand drop back to my side. I’m beginning to gain a sense, only one, feel. I can feel the soft material I lay upon. I rub both my hands side to side on what seems to be a bed beneath me. I take in a deep breath through my nose. Sense number two, smell. It’s clean. The air filling my nostrils has a certain cleanliness to it. The light fresh scent of lemons and lilacs. A nearly sickening strength, but I, for some unbenounced reason, enjoy it. I turn my head to the right, then to the left. My checks sink into something soft, plushy if you will. A pillow, it’s a pillow. So, I am laying in a bed, flat and straight. Softly I glide my tongue over my lips. Gently I run my lower front teeth over the side of my bottom lip. Their cracked, not much, but enough to give themselves a rough texture. Gradually I raise my hand up to my mouth, placing two finger tips to my lips. Blood. My lips are bleeding from their evident dryness. I move my tongue just enough so that it rest atop the small cut. And there it is, sense three, taste. The salty liquid just barely inches it’s way from my skin. I allow a small smile to cross my face as a wiggle my toes, which are kept warm inside seemingly thick socks.

Beep, beep.

Sound. Number four, hearing. A constant beep echos from beside me, although it’s quiet. Footsteps, the crumpling of paper, and, voices come to my ears. A woman works beside me, her steps sound rushed and her hands are obviously busy with whatever had been making the incessant beeping. A door closes and I’m certainly left alone once again. Things return to a hush, only the light buzz of chatter in the distance, and a hurried sound of a small machine remain.

I raise an eyebrow, pulling them both in towards each other. Quickly, I open my eyelids. I blink over and over again, trying desperately to rid the ever so slight burn in my eyes. My arms lay by my sides, my hands rested palm flat on the bed. I squint, my vision a blurry haze as I turn my head, just hardly side to side. I blink a few times again. Lastly, sense 5, sight. I look straight in front of me, up in this case. A stark white ceiling stares back down at me. A bright light shines from a wall behind me. I roll my neck diligently before erging myself up onto my elbows and eventually my hands. I sit. My eyes widen at my surroundings. Thankfully, I am alone. I look around the small room. It’s bright washed out green walls make it’s appearence seem larger than it really is. I look down at myself wearing a powder blue gown, with tiny navy blue spots as a shirt, accompanied by sunbleached black jeans appearing somewhat grey, and white socks with a thin red stripe wrapping around the toes. I run a hand swiftly through my hair. It’s more grown out than usual. Surprisingly it gives off a clean texture, with slight friz framing my face. I hold my hands out in front of me. Turning my hands over, I eye my palms than their back. A small grey device with a glowing red light inside pinches my left index finger. I bring my right hand up to clench my chest briefly, before placing three fingers to the side of my neck to feel the light and slow beat of my heart. This is reality. I turn my head. A pole stands tall at my bed side. A small foggy plastic bag hangs off one of it’s hooked arms, releasing a clear fluid from it’s bottom. The fluid drips through a long skinny tube. My eyes follow the scattered line from the bag to it’s end in my right forearm. I squint my eyes reading the small screen of the machine attached to the tall silver IV pole. I turn my head to the other side. Stats. A large black screen shows numbers and skinny dancing lines. I raise the left corner of my lips up into a modest smirk. With a quick shake of my left hand, I send the little grey device that hug my finger tip, flying. I watch the screen as the pulse line runs flat. I nearly let out a chuckle as two women hurriedly run into the room. They both stop, their eyes wide and their jaws dropped only a little. Their expressions clearly show they’re in shock. Judging by the looks pasted to their faces, I’m almost certain they weren't expecting me to be awake.