I slowly opened my eyes and was immediately blinded by a bright light and the color white all around me. I quickly closed them, then opened and closed my eyes until they adjusted to the bright light.

When I finally could make out my surroundings, I discovered I was in a room with white walls. A black box was hanging in the corner of the room, there were a few pieces of furniture, and beside me where a bunch of tubes, beebers, and other devices I couldn't understand. I was lying in a bed with sheets as white as the walls.

I raised my arm and saw a bunch of tubes going into my arm. I also realized there was something in my nose as well. I panicked. I began flailing about trying to get the stuff off of me. I felt arms start holding me down and there was yelling. Someone was calling for a doctor.

I froze. A searing pain pulled through my brain. I realized then that I was in a hospital and the things in my arms were to help me. Was I sick? Why was I in a hospital?

Slowly, the arms came off me and I realized they were waiting for me to start fighting again. I wasn't going to. I trusted doctors, or at least I remembered doctors as being people who helped others and didn't hurt them.

I then looked at the people who had held me down.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper and sounded cracked and dry. How long had I been asleep for my voice to sound like that?

The people started talking in a language different from the one I had spoken in. I recognized it as Korean and I tried to make out the words. With each word I recognized the pain increased more and more.

The pain suddenly became to great for me to bear and I screamed, clutching my head at the same time. All at once the people began rushing to my side and started talking quickly. All the talking made the pain continue to increase and finally I cried out, "Stop talking! It hurts. It hurts."

I began whimpering as the room got quiet and someone whispered what I had just said in Korean. After that my headache began to lessen and the pain reached a degree where I could think again. As I began to relax again, the person who had translated my previous outbursts came over to speak to me.

"I know you must be going through a lot of trauma, but the doctors need to know what your name is and how you ended up here."

Name? I tried to think of what my name was, but all that happened was a tremendous weight coming over my mind and I felt myself drifting away into unconsciousness. I stopped thinking of that and consentrated on my fingers and wrapping them in the blanket covering me.

"It hurts," was all I could say.

She must have understood my meaning because she whispered to the doctors something quietly, too quiet for me to hear. I was grateful because her words would have brought the headache back.

The doctors left the room and I was left alone.

I looked around me again and I saw on a table beside me flowers, balloons, and a card. Who were they from? How did they know me if the doctors didn't even know my name?

All the thinking and headache's had made me really tired, so I rested my head back on the pillows and fell asleep.