Not a sound can be heard in the small space she finds herself in, nor is there even one ray of light piercing the dark through which she sees without eyes. It's familiar by now, homely, like she's spent most of her life here though she can vaguely remember that not being the case. Her home used to be bigger for one, and she's quite confident that there were less people living in it, somehow, the thought of the three who sometimes come around feels wrong in a way that leaves her wanting to run. Funny thing is, she can never remember why.
A whimper pierces through the silence, startling the girl lying in the bed into opening her eyes, this is no place for noise. There have been fights and shouting here but the silence can't truly be broken, something is wrong. What is wrong? She knows something is but her mind doesn't supply any clues as to why she thinks so. Confused, she raises onto her elbows.
An incomprehensible sound forces her eyes open.
She blinks owlishly, wondering at the noise that seems to surround her, so much of it. She stirs to discover something heavy constraining her moves, coarse and stiff. The girl tilts her head to look at it but finds herself unable to see through the darkness- her brows furrow when she can't will it away.
"Please! Get me out of here!" Slowly, yet fast enough to leave her head spinning, she turns to the side, towards the source of the noise that she now realizes has been there ever since she opened her eyes. No- not just noise, yelling. A boy's yelling going by the youthful voice. Why is he screaming his lungs out in her house? She doesn't know any boys.
"Please! We'll burn here let me out!" Burn? Her heart jumps in her chest before it occurs to her that there's no fire. Only screams about it, hardly the same thing!
Blindness and pain take her impaired sight away for a moment when her pupils are unexpectedly assaulted by an explosion of light. She shields her eyes against it the best she can- by screwing them shut and burrowing her head into the hard pillow when she finds herself unable to lift her arms from under the weight that presses them down. An itch begins crawling upwards from her fingers once she notices its faint presence.
Scratching her hands against her thighs works to an extent, but now that she's paid the pain some attention, its other sources decide to let themselves be known. The stinging ache in her stomach being the worst of it all, easily beating the burning in her eyes that have by now adjusted to the light, enough at least to let the girl wedge her eyelids open to an extent.
There is a woman in the room (at least she thinks it's a woman), dressed in white and struggling with a small human sized shape thrashing on a different bed- with the yelling boy, she assumes, whose wailing has lost any signs of comprehensiveness. She observes the woman- the nurse, she realizes with a sudden bout of clarity- doing something to the boy that somehow contains his flailing, if not his screams. Belts? She's not sure, the world is too blurry even when she fully opens her eyes. Why is it- oh. Glasses. She wears glasses? She could see everything perfectly just yesterday so why does she remember wearing a pair for... basically forever?
She decides to push the question away for the moment and focus on more immediate concerns, such as figuring out where she is. Dysfunctional her sight might be but it is enough to see some if she squints enough. The room is plain almost to the point of sterility, white walls and no furniture beyond geometric beds and nightstands. She has her doubts if the stands on wheels with bags (she thinks) hanging off them can be called furniture... Wait. She looks at the nurse again, her foggy mind only now making the connection between the woman's profession and her own likely whereabouts. It's a hospital, she thinks. But- how? Just a moment ago she was in her home, and now she's here?
She falls completely still as she contemplates her situation. Something- something bad must have happened back home, bad enough for her not to even remember the event itself and to land her here with a sizable chunk of her memories carved out. She can't- Dad took her home and they ate dinner... was it poisonous? No. That's not it. She went to sleep that day and now... she's... here?
Why are there two homes in her mind? They've never moved. Mom was saying something about looking for a bigger house but she can't recall her parents ever talking about it as of anything more than a distant possibility. Has she forgotten?
So engrossed she is in her own mind that were it not for how weak she is, she'd have jumped into air when a hand lands on her shoulder. As it is, she only flinches and looks at the man- a doctor, she can see from this close up- who hovers by her side. It's quiet again, well, less noisy anyway as the boy seems to have fallen asleep.
"Miss Herbert?" Hebert- her mind mechanically supplies. Without her first name, she notes with distress. "Are you alright?" No she's not, she can't remember her name.
She tries to say as much, opening her mouth only to find herself unable to form any words. In part due to her parched throat, mostly because said words simply escape her. They're there in her mind- she knows them! It's just- they won't roll off her tongue. She tries regardless to a miserable, raspy effect of sounds that have as much to do with words as baby cooing. Breath hitches in her lungs.
"Please don't be alarmed," he continues in a calming voice. "Some trouble with speech is perfectly normal after waking up," he pauses for a moment. "Please nod if you understand me." She only blinks in response. Speech problems? "Miss Herbert-" Hebert "-please nod if you understand me." She stares for a moment longer before finally, slowly nodding.
A gust of cold air sweeps over them.
The man sighs. "Emily could you please fetch a glass of- what are you- Emily no! Stop!" The doctor shoots away from the bed. Alarmed, she cranes her neck to see what's happening.
It feels as if her heart collapses in on itself and her lungs rush in to fill the void. Her eyes widen and every muscle in her weakened body goes rigid. What the- what the fuck! A scream seeks to pierce through her clogged up throat but only a pathetic mewl gets out in the end.
"Fuck!" The doctor bellows as he reaches the open window, a second later they both hear panicked yelling from the outside world, no, not only from there. More screams are coming from inside the building too, distressed, pained screams. Violent shivers overtake the girl's body at the same moment when her heart remembers how to beat, her mind finally catching up with what her eyes have witnessed.
Her stomach churns, painfully reminding her of how empty it feels. Oh God, she's going to be sick. She tries to throw the too heavy cover off but finds her weak, hurting arms uncooperative. She does, however- in her panic induced state, manage to roll off the bed along with the sheets. The impact with the floor and the pain of pulling on her IV cord almost makes her regret the action but the pain is quickly pushed aside when her insides perform another flip. She forces her spider thin arms to lift her just inches above the ground the moment the retching hits, forcing acid out of her stomach but nothing else. Breathless, her angry-red scarred arms buckle and it's all she can do not to fall into the thick substance she's coughed up.
"Stay back." Wha- "I said stay back!" A panicked voice shrieks from the corner of the room, joining into the slowly growing cacophony of shouts both inside and out the building. She lifts her head to confirm that yes, it's the doctor that is yelling at... at something- not her. He's not even looking in her general direction.
She tries to get up but only manages to raise her torso up by a few inches. God dammit, she has to get out of here, away from the crazy man, from the nurse's memory and the screams that only keep growing in volume. All that while she can't even get up onto her legs.
"No!" The doctor grabs and empty IV stand as he would a weapon. "I said get away!" He lunges forward and the girl flails out of his way with a yelp, narrowly preventing her head from being stepped onto on the man's way to the door, she doesn't look. Doesn't care. Panic setting in, she hurriedly (slowly) crawls her way out of the sheets and underneath the bed she woke up on. Pulling her own IV down to the floor in the process and causing a blot of red to appear on the bandage around the strained PVC. But she doesn't stop, continuing her slow crawl until her back meets the wall beneath the bed, allowing her to see the room without being so easily seen herself.
She puts her hands to her mouth, trying to muffle her heavy, tired breaths, the room is empty bar her and the sleeping boy and she wishes it to remain that way, now that she's had a moment to collect herself. What is happening seems obvious, a cape must have attacked the hospital, someone jumping out of window and another one screaming at something that's not there? Powers. Must be.
Going by the still louder noise outside, it must also be happening elsewhere in the building. This is- God- she chokes back a sob and bites on the collar of her pyjama. She's trapped in a hospital under a cape terrorist's attack. And what else? Nobody sane or leading a gang would ever do that. Attacking a hospital is as good as signing a death warrant one oneself. The Protectorate and PRT crackdown is always damn near instantaneous in such cases.
Her heart calms down just a tiny bit at the thought.
Yes, yes the heroes will come soon enough and it will all be over. She can try running but- no it won't work. She can't even get to her feet and she's thinking about running? The exits must be blocked anyway. And the fact she remains unaffected by whatever is happening means she's been somehow missed. Best she keeps out of sight and waits until rescue arrives. They've had drills in school for situations just like this, stay low, stay silent and don't provoke the parahuman. She remembers being annoyed at it all, a vague feeling connected with doing something pointless. But she's grateful to have something to fall back on at the moment, glad that her spotty memory is supplying something useful instead of confusing, unmatching memories. She shakes her head weakly, it does the job of scattering the unwanted thoughts well enough, leaving her with vertigo instead. The girl bites at her chapped lips.
Wait until the heroes arrive.
She hugs herself tightly.
Just wait till the heroes arrive.