Caspian
Beep… beep… beep…
The sound dragged me back from the darkness. Slow. Reluctant.
Something tugged at my arm. My throat was dry. My body felt like lead—heavy and broken. There was a tightness around my chest, a dull ache crawling across my ribs, and a harsh sting on my forehead. Tubes. Tapes. Monitors. The scent of disinfectant flooded my nose, and the sharp chill of air conditioning brushed against my skin.
My eyes blinked open—barely.
White lights. Pale ceiling tiles. A soft humming from machines I couldn’t name.
There was an IV drip attached to my left hand, taped down. Wires ran across my chest, leading to a monitor that blinked in a steady rhythm. A nasal cannula looped under my nose, hissing softly with each breath. I was… alive.
I shouldn’t be.
Why the hell am I still
