I let out a yawn as I woke up. The room was different now, fancier, almost lavish. I spot a large window with a pretty view, suggesting this was the VVIP room that only those rich assholes could afford. It felt surreal. Then, a female voice called out to me.

“HE’S AWAKE,” she exclaimed. She looked old, like a mother, but she sure wasn't mine. I simply stared as she approached me, noting a man standing behind her. He was well-dressed and appeared handsome, but his tired eyes seemed like he hadn't gotten sleep in a long time.

“How are you feeling?” the woman asked, her gentle hands touching my face. It felt oddly comforting, but wait. Who the hell is she now? And why was she being so touchy?!?

I continued to stare, unable to comprehend the situation. Her eyes started to well up with tears. She seemed genuinely concerned, but why for me? And then she goes, “Son?”

Son?

What?

She just called me son…!

The man joined her, addressing me as “Kiddo” and asked if I recognized them.

No. I didn’t.

What was happening here? Feeling overwhelmed, I closed my eyes, hoping against hope that I could escape this reality and slip into the Abyss.

It was an unsettling realization that my emo tendencies might have been more accurate than I thought.

As I pretended to sleep, exhaustion took over me, and I drifted into slumber for the second time. When I woke up again, the room was clear, no sign of any human life except my miserable self. I felt a sense of relief, finally being able to be alone with my thoughts. I could still hear voices outside the room door; it must be them, I thought.

Got to be really quiet and careful about what I did next. Gently, I began to unplug the wires that were attached to my body, causing the cursed machine to emit its annoying “beep, beep, beep” once more. God, I hate this thing.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

One by one, I unplugged all the wires. ‘23’... ‘24’... ‘25’... 'nice.' I was finally done unplugging all the wires. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I wasn’t feeling much pain, so maybe it was fine, I thought.

While unplugging, I noticed a large bandage on my stomach. Must be where I got stabbed, huh? I tried sitting straight up. “AWH!” It HURT. I think it hurt more than when I got stabbed. WHAT THE FUCKKKKK!!

After much whispered screaming in agony and pain, it felt like I’d die from the effort. I finally managed to sit back up. I reached out to pick my phone up from the table next to my bed, but I was hit with another shock.

HOLY SHIT, WHOSE PHONE IS THIS? It was the newest phone in the iPhone series, the most expensive one too. I don’t recall the name, but it cost more than 20k. Reserved for only the select few people who could afford it. An amount that would cost me 30 years, no, 40 years of part-time jobs until I could finally afford it.

And it was right there, on the table next to me. I hesitated to even touch it, worried that even a tiny scratch would result in all my organs being sold to pay for it. However, as I clicked the power button, the phone unlocked?!?

WHAT?

It was mine?

That can't be…!

On the home screen, I see a picture of the man and the woman I had encountered earlier, today, and there was another person as well. He was a tall, handsome boy with jet-black hair, a defined jawline, and striking facial features that made him look like a model. He had that dream physique that most guys would kill for and girls would do anything for, which suggested he worked out regularly—a stark contrast to my own.

Few seconds passed by as I stared at the picture. Then, the door creaked open, revealing a female who appeared to be a maid. She wheeled in a table laden with delicious-looking food.

“Where should I keep this, sir?” she inquired with a soft tone.

Sir? Why was she calling me “sir”? Maybe it's just a job thing to treat patients with respect.

“Yeah, just leave it there.” My voice sounded different—more masculine and deep. It caught me off guard for a second. She stared at me for a moment before turning and leaving. I couldn't help but notice a hint of blush on her face. She was quite young too, so it felt odd. What was she blushing about? Maybe she was just laughing at how pathetic I looked.

After some time, the man, and the woman from earlier entered the room, this time accompanied by another person who seemed to be a doctor. Their eyes showed signs of tears, but I chose to ignore it.

The doctor, with a smile, initiated a conversation with me. “Hey there,” he greeted. I responded nonchalantly, “Yeah, hey,” my expression cold. He then asked me, “Do you know who you are?” Ahh, it was one of those moments. “Ali,” I answered flatly. The doctor seemed pleased by my response, saying, “Good, very good.” I couldn’t fathom what was so good about me simply stating my name.

The doctor pressed on, “Do you remember what happened?” I took a moment to think before answering, “I got stabbed…I think.” The memories were a bit hazy; the event had unfolded so rapidly.

The doctor's reaction, however, was as if I had just given a completely illogical answer. “Stabbed? Do you remember who did it?”

Dave.. I thought, but it wasn't really him; it was that other guy, one of Dave’s lackeys. Even so, I couldn’t tell them that. If I did, who knows what might happen to me? I might get kidnapped and thrown off a bridge or dumped in the middle of the Caribbean.

So I chose to play it safe. Last time I gambled, I was nearly killed, so I think I’ll stay away from gambling for now.

“No,” I replied. The doctor's bright smile returned as he concluded the conversation with a perplexing, “Thank you for your time.” I think this guy might have more screws loose than me... but he was nice, so I guess it's fine. I simply nodded in response.