It's fucking hot. Why is it so hot? It's winter! It's fucking February! Why does my head feel like it's burning? The sound of the fire alarm flashed back to me. Was the building on fire? Am I on fire? Why does everything hurt so much? I cough a little. I can't seem to move or open my eyes. Then I feel something extra hot on my hand. Fire. I scream out in pain and move my hand. The scream was pathetic and rather soft. I clear my throat and take a deep breath. I regret taking a breath in because all I got was smoke. I drag myself as far away as possible, on my hands and knees.

"Help!" I try to scream. The smoke from the fire makes my head feel heavy and my lungs burn. I force my eyes to open and look at the fire around me. It's amazing how fire can be something so dazzling and dizzying. I find myself lying down. The fire looks warm and beautiful while extremely dangerous. At some point, I think I let out a laugh. Perhaps it was the thought of dying that gave me a bittersweet sense of humor.

"I found her! Fire! Fire!" I can hear someone scream. No, please let me stay here.

~FLASH~

"Well, it's one for the money. Two for the show," Huh, Elvis?

~FLASH~

"Be brave, Beatrice," I can see a nurse with a mask on. She gently pulls her mask slightly down, letting me see her face and gives me a soft smile. Mom?

~FLASH~

I throw up, everywhere. I feel so sick. Why is it so dark?

~FLASH~

"Three to get ready. Now go, go, go! But don't you, step on my blue suede shoes. Well, you can do anything, but stay off of my blue suede shoes," I can feel my eyes open up. Where am I? Why does my throat feel so dry? Stuff is connected to my arms, my left hand is bandaged, and I feel a wave of nausea.

"Beatrice," I can hear a voice say, "it's ok. You're ok, just relax. Excuse me! She's awake! She woke up!" my eyes flit to the voice. Dr. Eaton. A nurse walks into the room.

"Hello," she says. I swear Elvis is playing.

"Is that Elvis?" I ask, still nauseous.

"Um, yes," she says, "How are you feeling,"

"Nauseous," I reply.

"You were inhaling the smoke from the fire for at least five minutes maybe more," she says. She holds a tray with a glass of water on it. She gently places it on my lap.

"Thank you, what happened to the other hospital," I ask.

"You're in the other hospital," replied Dr. Eaton.

"W-what do you mean?" I ask.

"The whole hospital wasn't on fire, only that room. Someone must've pulled an alarm or something,"

"Who's playing Elvis?" I ask, taking a sip of water.

"Is that the question you should be asking right now?"

"I wanna know,"

"Zeke," I'm surprised to see how much he can blend into the room. How did I not notice him here?

"I think I'm going to throw up," I say, feeling waves of nausea overcome me. A bag is handed to me by the nurse. I don't throw up, but I hold the bag with the nurse's help. I sigh as nausea slowly fades.

"I'm ok," I say.

"Do you want Zeke to turn off the music?" asks Dr. Eaton.

"No, it's fine," I reply.

"He's had like six songs on replay the whole time," Dr. Eaton says with a hint of annoyance.

"Well, it's good music," says Zeke.

"Would it be good music to you if Shauna didn't like it?"

"Shut up, yes it would be," Zeke says.

"Can you turn it up?" I say. Both their heads snap to me.

"Sure," says Zeke, smirking at Dr. Eaton.

"I never said Elvis was bad," says Dr. Eaton. It's quite entertaining watching them banter like this. I take another sip of water

"Elvis is king, don't you think Tris?" Zeke says.

"Hell yeah, that guy can sing," I reply, smiling. I remember my mother used to play Elvis in the house when my father wasn't home. It wasn't very loud, but it was fun just being selfish for a while and indulging in those things.

"Tris?" Dr. Eaton asks, looking at Zeke.

"Just a nickname I came up with," Zeke replies

"Why?"

"It's obvious that she'll be with us for a while so why not? Anyways, she's not like a Beatrice,"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she did slap you," Zeke points out. Oh god. I'd forgotten about that.

"I'm sorry. That wasn't right of me to do. I was acting out on anger," I say. I'm stubborn, but I'm smart enough to know when to step down.

"I shouldn't have acted like that either," Dr. Eaton replies. Silence fills the room uncomfortably.

"You had a visitor earlier," says Zeke.

"Who?" I ask. Who would visit me? It's not like I know anyone,

"A journalist but I sent him off. Can I go, Four? I need to eat," I frown in disappointment but who was I expecting?

"Sure," replies Four.

"Will I have to do more simulation stuff?" I whisper. Dr. Eaton ponder for a few seconds

"No," he says, his face softening.

"Did I burn my hand?" I ask looking at my bandaged hand.

"Yes, and thankfully, that was the only thing that burned. Your arm has a deep cut made by a knife, most likely,"

"How long have I been here?"

"Probably just about 14 hours," he says.

"What time is it?"

"11:34 pm," says glancing down at his watch.

"Where did you get the nickname Four?"

"Why so many questions?"

"Why did you dodge that question?"

"Do you want to know more about the attack?"

"Yes," I reply. Why does he keep dodging questions he doesn't want to answer.

"Well, there are three suspects. Molly Atwood, Peter Hayes, and Drew Smith. They might have all been involved and have been arrested. The police are looking at the camera footage and in one shot you can see Peter's face clearly but there are two other people with him. They were caught loitering close to the hospital directly after the fire. They were searched and multiple items were found on them Smith had a lighter in his pocket, Atwood had a knife, and Peter was found with a butter knife and had slight traces of drugs on him. We found you in a small storage room about 4 minutes after they lit the room on fire. They must have known that most of the stuff in the room was flammable It must have been planned. A nurse thought she caught sight of someone dragging you away. We were able to find you quick enough but you looked," he pauses for a second.

"Dead?" I ask.

"Smiling and coughing," he says.

"Oh,"

"It must have been because of the smoke inhalation,"

"How long will I have to stay here?"

"Depends. Could be released today or in a few days. They think you're good though,"

"Can anyone visit me here?"

"Maybe, I guess," Dr. Eaton says tilting his head.

"Well, would I be able to get a phone call?"

"I think so but-"

"I need a phone,"

"Who are you going to call? Anyways I don't-"
"Marilyn Monroe," I say sarcastically.

"Tris, the hospital might not allow you to call anyone because you are a patient at a mental facility," he says. Did he just address me by my nickname? Should I keep addressing him and Dr. Eaton? Four? I stay silent, thinking for a little bit.

"But you can call anyone you want, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"Let's just think for a second. Hypothetically, do you think if I were to give you a number, would you call them?" I ask. A small smile creeps on his lips.

"Hypothetically that would be quite possible."

"Would it be possible for you to tell them about this hospital and about a certain patient? Hypothetically, of course,"

"That sounds quite possible,"

"[Insert Random Phone Number (It will be used as Natalie Prior's Number)]. Would you call that number?" I ask. Dr. Eaton types something in on his phone.

"Quite possible," A nurse enters and Dr. Eaton jumps back. I hadn't realized how close we'd gotten when talking.

"Hi, Four," she says with a smile. She's really pretty and tall with dark brown hair and dark eyes. Something about her body makes me realize how childlike I am.

"Hello, Nita," he says, visibly tensing.

"Is this your patient? Is she the one that with the mental disease that makes it hard to understand what people are saying? Hi!" she says, leaning close to my face. I resist the urge to tell her to back off.

"Hi," I say.

"Anyways, Four, after you're done here, do you wanna hang out at my apartment. I just got some new coffee and I know how much you like it," she says, obviously flirting. This can't be professional. Can you please not flirt with her boyfriend right in front of me. Or at least don't make what you want so obvious. I don't have a mental disease that prevents me from comprehending what you're saying. I notice that both Nita and Dr. Eaton are looking at me. Nita looks near horrified and Dr. Eaton looks both surprised and… amused?

"What?" I ask, genuinely confused. But then it hits me. Oh. The one time I think out loud. Fuck…

A/N: That's this update. Wow, that every ten days update was thrown out the window immediately. My mom and I are moving to a smaller house because now there are only two people in my family. Things have been really rough for my mom and I don't really feel anything. I wasn't really, really close to my dad and he worked a lot of the time. He was a good dad though, dropping in and telling a few dad jokes but I can't cry. Maybe there's something wrong with me? Anyone wanna guess the Elvis song I have stuck in my head? Anyways, hope to update soon.

-L