Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
I wake up in the hospital bed. The white, clean, and warm surroundings are better than the street where I passed out from pain. Only the faint scent of antiseptic hangs in the air, a constant reminder of where I am and what has brought me here.
The hospital gown drapes loosely over my body, its pristine white fabric feeling cold and clinical against my skin. I can't help but feel exposed, vulnerable, as if the flimsy garment is a metaphor for my current state of being.
Beneath its thin layers, bruises bloom like dark flowers.
As I glance around the room, my eyes settle on the two figures standing before me. The doctor, with his white coat and reassuring demeanor, exudes an air of professionalism. Beside him stands a man in a dark suit, his expression unreadable ye
