Failure - Good Morning...
#2 of Failure
Mmm... Please tell me I'm dead, and I'm in heaven. If I am, sorry about the comment, god.
No, this wasn't heaven. And I'm pretty sure I'm not dead. If the cliche about dead people not being able to feel pain is true, then I'm alive, 'cause I'm fucking miserable right now. My shoulder's burning, and I'm pretty sure if I wasn't covered in this accursed, filthy black fur, I'd be one big black and blue mark. Maybe a little purple, for character.
Wondering why I'm not scarred by the beating? I've taken worse. 'nough said.
Well, upon waking up, I could realize two things. One, I was in a bed. No doubt. Not the softest bed, but it sure as hell wasn't asphalt. Shame. I had grown to like asphalt. Obviously.
After a few seconds, I finally coaxed my eyes to open, which didn't feel too good either. Did they shoot me in the head after all?
Doesn't feel like it. I looked at my burning shoulder as best as I could with my stiff neck. I had always been pretty flexible, and got a decent view... Of a bloodied bandage. Yeah, that's where I was shot. The blood seemed to be mostly from the upper curve. I guess it didn't go in, just grazed me. Well, grazed a few centimeters off me, maybe.
THe bed, I noticed, was all white. White sheets, and a white pillow. Reminded me of a hospital bed.
Crap... I better not be in a hospital. I can't afford a bloody hospital bill. Hell, I couldn't afford my last dinner bill. And my last dinner was from a dumpster.
I sat up, and some of the blanket slid down, which is how I realized the second thing... I had no clothes.
Oooookay... I was naked, in a hospital I couldn't afford.
Can I go back to that alley?
After my mental rant, I decided to atleast get a 'lay of the land', so to speak. The room was small, maybe 10x7, with a ceiling around 8" above ground. A window was directly above the bed, shining sunlight onto the sheets. A small, whitewood door was across the bed and to the left. Not built like a hospital room. Bad architect?
I figured I might as well try to make my grand escape. I wasn't paying for this. I stood up, wrapping the blanket around my waist, and went for the window. Good news, it wasn't locked. Bad news, it wasn't the kind that opens. As I sat down, the door opened.
A fox stepped through, female, and god she was beautiful. Now I'm sure I'm dead, 'cause that's definitely an angel. She was wearing a fairly flattering white blouse, and a green skirt going just below her knees.
"Hello. My name is Cheryl. I'm so glad we found you in time... May you tell me your name?"
"Uh...." What can I say? I was speechless. She was pretty damn beautiful. If I had to guess, I'd say she was around 37. "I'm Dante. Dante Blackwell."