Hope
I wake up surrounded by white.
White walls. White sheets. White floors. Even the air feels sterile, like it's been scrubbed clean of sound and warmth. For a moment, I wonder if I'm dead. Then the dull throb in my skull reminds me I'm very much alive.
But I clearly don't remember a thing.
The door swings open.
And just like that, the room feels colder. It's like I can feel a certain energy, and even before I see his face, I fucking know it's Kaleb.
He steps inside, his expression carved from anger and lined with contempt. He doesn't even try to mask it. "If self-harm is your new method of getting attention, I suggest you find another hobby. I'm not above locking you in a padded cell until the dramatics wear off."
That selfish motherfucker! Is that the right word for someone who's coming back from the afterlife?
"If you're really here just to lecture me," I say, my voice hoarse, "then you'd better leave now before I lose my shit."
