Josephine
I feel tired. Why do I feel tired? Why is my brain fuzzy? Why does my head pound? My throat…it feels so dry. Opening my eyes slowly, the first sight I caught is a white ceiling. It slowly trailed down to the blood bag hanging on the drip pole, down to the needle pricked into my vein.
One thought flashed through my mind. I survived.
I’m all alone in the room, and I was tempted to get out of this bed and look out just to confirm if I’m on the island or if I successfully got myself out of that island.
The air gave me hope. It smells nothing like the fresh air of the sea. It is mixed with the usual harsh disinfectants and also air from industrial usage.
My moment of bliss was cut short when the door knob twisted. I quickly shut my eyes, feigning unconsciousness. The sounds of a
