AN: Hi, people! I know I already have a current fanfiction going on, Never Let Go, but this idea just popped into my head and I just had to write it! Please give me reviews; I love hearing what the readers think! St. Barnabas Hospital in NYC is real (I looked it up), but the doctor is fictional. This is somewhat short, but I hope you like it! ~Georgia
Jack's POV
I opened my eyes.
Infirmary attendants loomed above me, looking down at my face in concern. I felt needles prodding at me. I felt unnaturally and excessively cold. Something wasn't right. I made an attempt to sit upright.
Immediately, nurses came running, saying, "No, Mr. Dawson, no!" and gently pushing me back down into my pillow. For some strange reason, every single one of those nurses seemed to have curly, fiery red hair and piercing green eyes,
A doctor walked up to me. "Hello, Jack," he greeted, as if he were my friend and I'd known him forever. "How are we doing today?" the man asked, adjusting a bag with a long tube connected to my arm.
A befuddled look dawned across my face. "Where am I? What happened, and who are you?" I rasped. My voice was strangely rough, as if it hadn't been used in a long time.
The man looked at me seriously. "Jack, you are in St. Barnabas Hospital in New York City. You have just awakened from a coma caused by hypothermia, and you have been in our care for about three weeks now. However, you have been awaking on and off for the past few days. I am Dr. David Johnson," Johnson explained.
"Oh. Okay, it's all coming back to me now," he lied.
Johnson nodded and continued fixing the bag. When he was finished, he nodded. "Good. Here's the TV remote; the television's up there," he said, pointing towards a strange, shiny, thin black rectangle that was protruding from the wall. Johnson placed another, smaller black rectangle with buttons on it in my hand. The buttons had numbers, and words like "Guide", "Exit", "Info", and "Mute". In the center were multiple buttons with a number from 1 to 9 on each. I was completely clueless. TV remote? Television? America is strange, I thought.
Aiming the "TV remote" at the "television", I pressed a red button labeled "On", wondering what it would do. Immediately, the thin black rectangle on the wall lit up, and there were people on the rectangle! Real, live people on this black thing called a television. It was like watching a moving picture. I kept hitting these arrows, and the realistic moving pictures on the so-called "television" kept changing. I stopped on a moving picture with the words "The Today Show" at the bottom.
A lady with dark hair was on the television. She said with a smile, "Good morning everyone! Today is Sunday, April 15th, 2012-" What? 2012? "—7:00am! I'm Ann Curry, here with Matt Lauer, on The Today Show."
Well, I had no idea who Ann Curry or Matt Lauer was, but I knew that I was somehow 100 years into the future. And that I was in New York City. In some place called St. Barnabas Hospital, under the care of some guy named Dr. David Johnson.
And, worst of all, I had had no idea where Rose was.