ALLISON'S POV
The first thing that hits me is the smell of bleach and it drags me painfully into awareness. It’s that unmistakable hospital smell that tells me exactly where I am—lying in a bed, not floating somewhere waiting for judgment in the afterlife.
I feel heavy, like super heavy.
The second thing I feel is the distinct sensation that a semi-truck has parked in my stomach.
I blink once, then twice, my eyelashes sticking together and my eyes protest every attempt to open, but I force them anyway. The ceiling tilts and sways in my vision and I have no choice but to shut my eyes again, just for a second to just to stop the spin.
“Allie? Oh, thank God. You’re awake.”
I inhale shallow gasps through the stiff plastic of the oxygen mask pressed over my face, my chest barely lifting
