The intense of the pure white, it covered the whole place. The first thing that came to his mind in this endlessly white universe was a question so simple, so well-used that it surprised himself asking it: "Where am I?"
It was the silence in the white nowhere that gave him the answer he feared the most.
In Hospital.
Alive.
As his eyes observed the place, the first thing that was luring for him was the broken watch on the side table. The glass had been removed completely and he didn't waste a thought on why someone had left it in the room and not thrown it away. The second thing that catched his attention was the window. A big, white frame that catched the cloudless blue sky, or, at least a part of it.
He tried to slide to the edge of the bed, but there was something that bothered him. It was the coldness in his legs, his toes, he could barely feel.
"What if...", was the first clear thought he catched up with
And within the next second, before he could even finish the sentence on his mind, he felt it. Nothing.
The boy pulled the bed sheets aside to look down his legs, scared that they weren't there anymore. And the fear grew bigger and bigger, as he found them, where they had always been. But bandaged in white. Intense white, pure white.
He tried to move them, but he couldn't. He wanted to scream, scream at himself, drown the pure white world in swearing, shouting and disgust. But he couldn't.
The nurses came, changed the badages, brought food. The doctors came and went off. They told him the diagnosis and asked him questions, but he didn't respond. And he sat there, frozen in the last movement he took, fingernails digged in the white sheets. Fists clenched around a color he wished he never saw again.