Long fingers flexed into sterile white sheets beneath her. Black hair splayed across the matching, white pillowcase, and a pair of almond eyes fluttered open.
The room was empty and white. Everything was white, except for the cute little border that covered the upper foot or so of the room. It was pink. Soft pink.
"Where am I?" She asked, but only silence greeted her. The room was empty.
Empty!
Panic seized her chest, and she shot up. Automatically, the world spun, a gasp passed her pale lips, and she sank back into the warmth of the mattress. But that too-familiar feeling of tightness in her chest had remained, and she sucked in a breath, doing the one thing that she knew would get her answers.
She screamed.
The door was shoved open by several nurses, all of whom bustled over to help her, cooing to her to calm down and just relax. Cho stopped screaming, but that was all.
"Honey, what's wrong?" The woman who spoke to her spoke as though she was talking to an infant.
"Where am I?" Cho repeated, dark eyes trying to catch one of the nurses' but to no such luck. None of them would look at her.
"You're somewhere that people can take care of you now. Do you like your room, honey?" This nurse spoke with a gentler tone, her voice high.
"It's empty. I want flowers. Can I have flowers?"
"We'll try, dear. What kind of flowers do you want?"
"Yellow roses. He always brought me yellow flowers... Can I have a lot of yellow flowers?"
"Of course, honey."