ZESA RUSSO
I woke up to the sickly smell of hospital disinfect invading my nostrils. The room was fairly silent apart from my heavy breathing and the beeping sound from the digital monitoring machine beside me. I squinted in an attempt to sharpen the blurred images before me, glancing around the room to take in my surrounding. A bed dominated the room, somewhat lumpy with padding and white sheets that seemed to mask the thick plastic covering the mattress. There was a call button attached to the bed, a bedside table, a comfortable chair and two dining type chairs. The room was decorated in a gold and white color. It was definitely a VIP room. I shut my eyes, trying to remember what had happened to me, but no matter how much I tried to remember, only blurry images came to me. How long had
