Who: Sam Ford and Iggy Where: Desert Springs Hospital What: Sam waking up after being hit by a drunk driver
The first word that cut through the fog was relapse. He knew he was in a hospital before he even opened his eyes. They had a very distinctive smell. What he didn't know was how he'd gotten here. It felt like his head was full of cotton. He groaned, barely hearing the sound. Slowly, the beeps and sounds of nurses getting louder as his hearing became clearer.
Why him? It wasn't fair. There should be a rule about how much time a person should have to be in a hospital, and after you fill it up, you're healthy for the rest of your life. Sam wouldn't have had a cold after the age of eight, under that system. Sam was tired of fighting this stupid disease. He was tired of being in the hospital. He was tired of it all.
Sam opened his eyes, looking up at the ceiling. There were little things floating in the air.. Feathers? Why were there feathers? He tried to sit up, but couldn't. He couldn't turn his head, either. There was something holding his neck in place. That wasn't normal. He hadn't had that during his past hospital stays. He could move his arm, though, and scooped up a few feathers that had fallen on his bed and lifted them so that he could see them. "What..?" His hand was scraped up, too.