Final Truth

Chapter 75: Who Am I?

Peter's point of view:

There's an empty abyss.

A swirling pit that contains no tangible thought or memory, an absence of anything definitively good or bad, a lack of consciousness to indicate if I were dead or simply asleep.

There's nothing but this feeling of being pulled to and fro, tossed around in the infinite sea of oblivion, forsaken and alone, no voice to my scattered thoughts as I am lost in the expansiveness of it all.

But then there's a pull, something wrapping around my mind like a bandage to a wound, a sound that seems to call me from the other side, call me out of the dark.

I mentally latch onto it as hard as possible, feeling it lift me away from the confusion and empty existence around me into what must be a better place.

There's a light now, and it's growing brighter with each passing second. Soon I'm shrouded in it, no trace of darkness now as that sound becomes a voice, a voice that strengthens in clarity, a voice saying something, anything, a word I don't know, a tone I've never heard.

But it's bringing me back to the land of the living, and once the light becomes blinding and the voice becomes close enough to touch, my eyes find the strength to open.

I'm awake.

Blinking and breathing, I'm awake.

There's a white ceiling with fluorescent lights that hurt my eyes.

There's beige walls with dull pieces of art hung for decorum.

There's a bed with slightly scratchy sheets and a blanket draped over my body.

There's a faint beeping sound in the distance, a noise meant to match my heart, strong and steady and slightly fast with the notion of seeing everything with what feels like a new set of eyes.

There's two people at the end of my hospital bed, both young women who couldn't be older than twenty. One has blonde hair and a lab coat, a doctor I presume. The other has messy black hair and piercing green eyes, but there's no indication as to why she's here. Perhaps she's a nurse who forgot her scrubs.

They both seem familiar in some way, a strange sort of feeling that perhaps I knew them in a past life.

A silly thought, but also a sobering one, for it's with that realization that not only do I not know who these people are...

I don't know who I am.

I don't know this location.
I don't know how I got here.
I don't even remember my own name.

Fear comes inkling in as I struggle to sit up, frantically looking around the room for any indication of familiarity, something to trigger a memory, anything to make me remember...

"Sir," the blonde woman says, drawing my attention away from the panic.

I focus on her as I try to ease my breathing, and she attempts to placate me with a serene expression coupled with the calmest voice she can muster.

"You're okay, you're safe now. You've endured an extremely severe concussion, but any memory loss you may have is to be expected. You're in a hospital, and we're here to help," she says.

A concussion?

"How'd I get a concussion?" I ask.

"Diving in a nearby river. The water was too shallow and you hit your head on the bottom."

"But..." I trail off, reaching my hand around to feel my scalp, searching for any trace of pain. "My head doesn't hurt."

"You've been out for quite some time, over two weeks in fact. Perhaps the period for pain passed while you were still unconscious," the doctor explains.