Since I started college last year, many nights I'd get groggy and wake up in my friend's dorm. Before I opened my eyes, I knew it was a different morning.

The pain spread to my temples and there was an unbearable fire behind my eyes. My mouth was dry, and when I took a deep breath, a burning sensation spread down my throat. I have a bit of an itch under my nose. I reached for it, and something got stuck on my wrist. I jerked my arm, but to no avail, and the cold metal pressed into my flesh. I pulled my arm again, and the metal crashed into place. I took my other hand, towards my face, but the same uncomfortable metal ring held me in place.

Pain shot down the side of my skull. I struggled to open my eyes and look down at my wrist. When I opened my eyes, I saw darkness. I wanted to reach out and touch my face, but I was stuck. The back of the hand is extremely painful.

I was out of breath. There was a beeping sound around me. I opened my mouth to speak, but only a faint sound came out. I closed my mouth and tried to accumulate saliva to moisten my tongue. I wanted to shout, but my voice was like a whisper.

"Help me." My voice was hoarse. Doesn't sound like me. "Please, anyone."

I clenched my fists and tried to pull up my arms. There was another crash of metal

I had severe pain in my wrist.

It's not waking up on a night of alcoholism. I didn't drink anything yesterday. I remember my music ringing in my ears when someone grabbed me from behind and walked home from the driving range. A big hand covered my mouth, followed by a scream!

When I tried to break free, the pressure on my chest increased. The beeps around me picked up speed, and they got faster and faster.

"Please!" I cried. When I tried to roll over and get out of bed, twisting my back. "Please help me!"

The beep has gotten faster.

There are footsteps. I held my breath and lay back on the bed. The footsteps grew louder and louder, and a man approached me.

"Please, please let me go," I said, the footsteps stopped, the wheels creaking. A hand was placed on top of my head. I jerked to the side, away from the man. I gritted my teeth as the pain spread to my neck. Hands stroking my hair, I tried to pull myself away from the man.

"Calm down, Diana," a male voice said. "You need to rest."

"Where am I?" I asked.

"You're recovering," he said. "The operation was a success. But that doesn't mean you're okay. I had only one patient before and she died one day after her illness, surgery. ”

My lips were trembling. The man pinned a strand of my hair behind his ear. He adjusted what was under my nose, the oxygen tube, I guess.

"What did you do to me?" I asked. "How do you know my name?"

"I'm not reckless. I found your health card in your wallet," he told me. "As for the operation, I'll tell you later, I don't want you to worry about it, it will affect your recovery."

"No, it won't!"

"Your pulse is high and your oxygen is low," he interrupted me. "Take a deep breath."

I bit my lip and grabbed what was holding me down with my wrist. The man's warm hand covered my wrist.

"Diana, I have to do this," he said. "If you don't calm down, I'm going to have to give you a sedative.

You are in the current situation that may cause respiratory depression which would ruin all my hard work. ”

"What did you do to me?" I asked.

The sharp pain in my back and my eyes got worse. I rolled my fingers into the sheets. I sniffed and realized I must be crying.

"Breathe for me," the man said.

I don't know what's going on, but I know I don't want to die. I closed my mouth and took a deep breath through my nose. I did it two more times before I felt the man put his hand back on top of my head.

"Good girl," he told me. "Try to breathe through your nose. I'll check you in an hour. If you don't improve, I'm going to have to give you an oxygen mask. He turned my wrist to examine it.

"You've been fighting your bondage," he said. "You shouldn't do that. Your wrist is bruised and your IV tube is dislocated. If you survive and attend the dinner party, I hope to be able to show you off without any trace. ”

"What dinner?" I asked.

"You don't have anything to worry about yet."

I gasped when there was a sharp sting in the back of my hand. He pushed the needle. I listened as the man rummaged through something in a drawer.

Metal and plastic packaging collide with each other, making a rustling sound. A cold liquid rubbed through the inside of my arm just below my elbow. He let go of the back of my hand.

"Whew!" I screamed as I got another stab in my arm.

"Don't pull this out," he said. "I'm not going to do it again."

"Please, let me go home," I said. "I promise, if you let me go, I won't tell anyone about it."

The man's chair creaked. He took a deep breath. "I can't let you go," he said. "You'd die without me."

"You're going to kill me?" My voice was hoarse.

"Kill you?" His chair creaked again. "Diana, that's the last thing I want to see. I will do whatever it takes to keep you alive. If this experiment is successful, you will be my greatest achievement. ”

"What did you do to me?"

"Don't worry, kitten."

The man walked around the bed. Water flows out of the tap. It stopped, footsteps getting closer, and the pillow was pulled behind me. It forced me to sit up straight. Something cold touched my lips and I was startled.

"You need to drink," he said

As he lifted the glass, the water dripped down my chin. The water felt like heaven on my dry tongue and throat. He took the cup away and stroked my hair with his hand.

"Take a break," he told me. "I've prescribed you some painkillers, and I'll come down in an hour to check on you."

I listened to his footsteps as he walked away from me. A door clicks when it closes. The painkillers the man gave me must have worked. The pain in my temples has lessened to a tolerable throbbing. The fire behind my eyes is still burning.

I turned my head to the side, feeling something pass through my eyes. I turned my head to the other side, and the fabric moved over my face. I tried to get rid of it, but the pain came back to my head.

I used my wrists to resist the restraints, but it didn't work. I was pinned to the bed. Pulling my arm would destroy my IV and he'd have to stick another one in me.

This doctor drugged me? And took my unconscious body to the hospital for some kind of surgery on me. What kind of hospital would allow this? Isn't it suspicious to be confined to a bed?

I held my breath. All I could hear was the beeping of the machine next to me. Where are the nurses? What about other patients? It sounds like I'm the only one here.

"Hello?" I shouted.

I hummed and tried to prop myself up, but I couldn't go far. I kicked my leg and my ankle was free. I flashed my feet over the bed until I got to the bed. I tried to untie the blanket from my feet. The cold air touched my toes. I dragged my other foot across the bed. I hit a plastic pipe. I touched it with my toes and saw that it was between my legs. My feet were dangling from the edge of the bed. I wanted to melt off the bed and fall on the floor. I swing my foot down, but I can't feel the floor. My wrist stopped me from falling any further. I pulled myself back into bed.

The man told me that I needed to rest or I would die. I needed to calm down until he let go of my wrist and took over closing anything that covered my eyes.

I leaned back on a pile of pillows, trying to clear my mind.

I screamed as my head was pushed forward. I reached out to push the man away, but the metal dug deep into my wrist. Something was fixed to the back of my head before I rested on the pillow. The plastic dug into my face and went around my nose and mouth. A gust of wind blew in my face.

The "mask" on my face did not move. A hand was placed on top of my head.

"Breathe, Diana," said the man. "You're low on oxygen."

He was tidying up the blanket

I kicked it off!

"I told you to rest," he said.

"I am," I said. My voice echoed through the mask. "I'm moving in my sleep."

He took a deep breath.

"What kind of hospital is this?" I asked.

"You're not in the hospital." The chair creaked and he rolled over at me. "You're in my lab."

"Please let me go," I said. "Let me go to the hospital."

"I can't let you go," he said. "You need me. You've undergone a very unique surgery and you need me to live. You have outlived my other patients. ”

"How many more?"

"You're Patient Twelve"

Another beep, but this time in a higher pitch and at a faster tempo. It sounds like a phone call "You're patient number twelve"

Another beep, but this time in a higher pitch and at a faster tempo. Sounds like a mobile phone.

"I have to accept it," he said. He patted me on the top of my head. "Sleep for a while."

The chair creaked and his hand left my hair.

"I'm Dr. Sweeney," he said. "Ah, yes, Mr. Carlisle. How's your new kidney? ”

As he moved farther and farther away from the bed, his voice faded away.