Laci’s Awakening Part 1

I felt a stinging of light shining in my eyes. So I opened them.

A group of about 8 doctors in lab coats, 6 male, 2 female, greeted me. Or rather, they stared at me as they scribbled in their notebooks.

I opened my mouth to speak, but I made no sound. I was parched. “Water,” I managed.

The male doctor on the right hand side of me, almost annoyed, grabbed a sippy cup of water. I reached out to grab it, but found that my arm was restrained at the wrist. He stuck it into my mouth. I sucked on it. After a few seconds, I felt better.

“Where am I?” I croaked. I had no idea how I ended up here. In fact, I had no idea who I was.

“You are Laci,” the doctor who offered me the bottle said. “You are in a research lab. It doesn’t matter where.”

While the doctor was speaking, I realized that I was completely naked. For some reason, I felt completely ashamed of this. I wasn’t sure why; I saw the fully clothed doctors around me, but somehow this shame felt more profound than a self image thing. Deep down, I felt like I shouldn’t be this way.

I struggled against the restraints; I was bound at the ankles as well. After a few seconds of struggling, I gave up; it didn’t seem like I was getting out of this anytime soon. The doctors didn’t seem to notice my struggle, they were all still scribbling in their notebooks, each occasionally glancing at me .

“Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” I tried to yell, but I was still groggy from whatever I was on before I woke up. It sounded more like a half-asleep request. Still, I got a response.

“We are just recording some basic responses of yours. You have been asleep for a very long time. Do you remember anything?” one of the female doctors said.

I tried to think. “…no, not really” I said. “Anything at all?” another male doctor said, without looking up. “I remember… a fire?” I almost asked.

“Great job, Laci,” the female doctor said, giving me a slight smile while scribbling down on her notebook. “You were in a car crash, years and years ago. “

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You were very young, Laci. You were seven years old when the car crashed. Your parents, they perished in the crash, I’m sorry to say.”

This would have been a shock if I’d remembered anything, but I didn’t, aside from a hot, bright orange light.