-1When I woke--the first thing--was--the light…It was there before…Even before I had my eyes open. Then--I made the mistake--of opening my eyes.

Light filled my head and I was blinded.

I didn't know where I was…Of course…I knew nothing…it was all so hard--even to think--never mind to remember.

I shut my eyes--quickly.

-----

Slowly…
Ever so slowly, things began to change. I began to think, and I began to remember.
I realized where I was. I must be in a hospital. Where else could I be--after what had happened to me? Thank Roy, I reminded myself.
I had only been in a hospital--once or twice before. And I could tell that I wasn't--in my own bed. It didn't smell like home. It smelled bad.
It smelled ugly. If a scent could be ugly--then that was certainly how the smell was.

And though my eyes were shut, I could see the hospital. My white, sterile room. When I opened my eyes--there would be more light--and doctors.

The next thing was the pain.

Everything was a blur. My head was throbbing. My arms stung and burned and my legs were sore, but my back was a source of vast pain.

Gingerly, I moved one of my arms underneath the bedclothes. I lifted a hand across my chest, feeling bumps. Each bump smarted, and I realized they must be welts. Welts from the burns. From the cinders. From the zeppelin. It all returned to me in a rush of panic. I withdrew my hand, but my fingernail scraped against one of the welts painfully. A pain speared through my chest and the white light went black.

---------

When I woke again, everything was dark. I realized this in the same moment I remember my eye was swollen. For a terrible minute, I thought I had gone blind. That was when I panicked again. Not because I thought I was blind, but because I knew I was thinking irrationally. But after a few seconds of thought, I realized I should be thankful that anything was coherent at all. I tried to focus, sitting up a little before I felt the sharp pain shoot through what felt like every nerve ending on my body. A gasp escaped my lips and I fell back against the soft, sterile bed. Ugly. Everything felt ugly right now. This bed felt alien beneath me. It wasn't my bed. And who knew how many people had slept in it before? What kind of diseases had they had? My heart hammered against my chest. I tried to stop the thoughts, but they kept coming.

The walls were ugly. Even in the dark, my eyes were adjusting and I knew for sure that the walls were white. Disgustingly white, as if someone had stood there scrubbing the walls for days to make them spotless. Unnaturally clean.

I tried to turn my head a bit to the left, but even that small movement sent pain shooting through me. I grappled with the spots of light that exploded behind my eyes, until finally they faded. I refused to pass out again. That would just be humiliating.

"Al...?" I tried to whisper, but my throat felt like it was closed up and just from that one syllable, my throat hurt enough that I whimpered. Why me? I thought miserably. Why did it have to be me, out of everyone in London...?