21. A special allergy?

Numbed down pain.

That’s all I feel when I find myself waking up, a low, drawled groan leaving my mouth as I slowly regain consciousness. My throat is scratchy, and it feels like something died in my mouth. Faintly, I hear a beeping sound coming next to me, and I slowly turn my head to see what it is.

A machine. A machine to measure my heartbeat, the kind you see in hospital rooms with serious patients.

Why was I a serious patient, then?

That’s when all the memories came back to me through the haze of my mind.

Stone and his goons. The beating in the cafeteria. Falling unconscious as soon as the security guards managed to get the attackers off me. Someone screaming the word ‘hospital’ while I faded to black.

Crap.

I use my tired eyes to look around the room. The walls are painted white with accents of light yellow, and there’s a window. It’s a private room, and there is even a TV mounted in the corner. All around me, there are various machines taking my reading there's, and an IV poked
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