It feels like I'm falling, falling back into my own body. A dull hum fills my ears, and a bright, sterile white light slowly comes into focus. My mind is foggy, and I struggle to make sense of my surroundings. Again, I feel disoriented, like I've just woken up from a deep sleep, but there's something different this time. My body feels weak and unresponsive like I'm trapped.

I try to turn my head to look around, but as I do, my neck pops like bubble wrap, sending a shiver down my spine. The room starts spinning, and my heart races with anxiety. I'm completely disoriented and have no idea how I got here or what's happening.

Suddenly, I become acutely aware of the dryness in my mouth and throat, as if every inch of my mouth has been coated in sandpaper. I try to swallow, but it only makes the dryness worse.

As I panic, a sharp beeping sound begins to quicken in tempo, and my room fills with people. I hear multiple voices around me, but I can only see blurred figures moving in and out of my field of vision. I'm overwhelmed and scared, and I can't make sense of anything. All I can do is lay there, helpless and confused, as the world spins around me.

"Michael?" A voice goes in and out like I was being dunked into the water. My eyes struggle to adjust to the brightness of the light shining on them. It's disorienting, and my mind feels like it's been scrambled.

 "Michael, can you hear me?" An older man leans close to my face, and I can smell the sharp scent of cheap coffee on his breath. It's the only smell I can detect and overwhelms my senses.

"Water…" I manage to squeeze out the words, my throat raw and parched. My mouth feels filled with cotton balls, and I can barely swallow.

Quickly, a straw is placed in my mouth, and the relief is immediate and exhilarating. The cool liquid slides down my throat, soothing the dryness and quenching my thirst.  

But as the water hits my system, I suddenly urge to urinate. It's a sharp, burning sensation that radiates through my body, and I can feel a warmth spreading around my groin area. I'm horrified to realize that I'm wearing a catheter and can't even control my bodily functions.

I feel helpless and trapped, like a prisoner in my own body. The burning sensation intensifies, and I can't ignore it any longer. I try to speak, to tell someone, anyone, but my words are garbled and incoherent. So all I can do is lay there, helpless and confused, as the world spins around me.

A pressure squeezes my arms and legs, and I am lifted and held in place by excess pillows to be upright. It's disorienting, and I feel like I'm floating in mid-air. A woman is in front of me, calling me Michael. She talks slowly, her words stretching out and echoing through my mind like a dream. But I can't piece together anything she is trying to ask. I feel like I'm in a nightmare, trapped in my mind.

I had no answers. I don't even know why she is calling me Michael. Is that me? The confusion spirals deeper, and I feel like drowning in a sea of uncertainty. I'm terrified and can handle the panic rising in my chest.

I close my eyes hard, trying to remember anything, anything at all. It feels like my life depends on whether I can remember anything. I can't claw my way out of this nightmare. A light switch is in front of me. I move up and down, flickering on and off, and the darkness remains.

Suddenly, the darkness becomes a living thing, and it envelopes me. It's like a black cloud, suffocating and terrifying. I feel like I'm being consumed, swallowed whole by the darkness.

I try to navigate a dark room, but the shadows grow and shift around me, and I feel lost in a maze. It's like a nightmare, and I can't escape. I'm trapped, and the darkness is closing in on me.

I wake to voices, two people sitting on each side of me. But the nightmare continues, and I can feel the darkness lurking just beyond the edges of my vision until I am pulled out by a hug and a warmth that brings my focus to reality.

Pain shoots down my back as the woman holds me tight, and I hear a familiar voice call my name. "Michael. It's so good to see your beautiful eyes," she says. I try to focus on her face, but the spinning room and bright lights make it difficult. Finally, the older man beside her says, "Easy does it, Mary. Don't hurt him any more than he already is. I thought you were a goner for sure, son." The man's words stun me as I try to recall who he is.

"Who?" I ask, confusion taking over.

"Your sister, Kristen. I'm calling her now," Mary says, smacking Walt's shoulder.

"My sister?" I ask, still lost.

Walt rubs the sides of his mustache as he stares at me in disbelief. "How hard did you hit your head, Mike?"

I grab the side of my head, feeling a tender scar close to healing. "Why are you calling me that name?" I ask, hoping for answers that don't come.

Mary slowly puts her phone down, staring at me. "Walt, go grab that doctor. Let him know something doesn't seem right with Michael." She said, shooing Walt out of the room. She held my hand and held it to her face as a tear slowly fell down her cheek with her eyes closed. "Stay with me, Mikey, stay with me, please." She whispered.

The doctor enters the room, looking stern and focused. He examines my head scar and asks, "Can you tell me your full name?"

I struggle to recall my name, "No," I reply weakly. The doctor turns to Mary with concern etched on his face. "Has Michael ever had memory issues in the past?"

Mary shakes her head, tears streaming down her face. "No, he hasn't. But, Walt, can you remember anything? Maybe from high school football?"

Walt tries to think but comes up empty-handed. "Nothing comes to mind," he says apologetically. The doctor turns back to me, his eyes studying me intently. "Do you know how you got here?" he asks.

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I shake my head, feeling helpless and scared. The doctor's expression doesn't give me much hope.

As the tension in the hospital room begins to mount, the door suddenly bursts open, and a tall, lanky man saunters in. His eyes sparkle with mischief, and a wide grin spreads across his face as he enters the scene before him. "Well, well, well," he drawls in a deep, booming voice. "What do we have here?"

I blinked, momentarily taken aback by the newcomer's appearance. Who is this guy, and why does he seem so familiar? I glance over at Mary and Walt; they each hug him while Mary rests her head on his shoulder, staring at me, smiling.

"Hey, Thor. How is the pizza business going?" Walt asks.

"It's about to be much better when I get this jerk ass back to work!" Thor said excitedly.

Thor strides over to the bedside and pulls up a chair. "Hey, man," he says, extending a hand toward me. "It's been too long. How are you feeling?"

I hesitate for a moment before shaking his hand. Despite my confusion and anxiety, something about the stranger's easy charm puts me at ease. "I'm not feeling too great," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't remember much."

Thor's expression turns serious momentarily as if he's trying to grasp the situation. "Oh, man," he says, running a hand through his unruly hair. "I didn't know it was this bad. I'm sorry, Mike."

"It's okay," I say, trying to reassure him. "I just need to figure things out."

Thor nods, a small smile returning to his face. "Well, don't worry about it right now," he says, pulling out a vape pen. "Let's lighten the mood a little, huh?"

As he takes a hit, the doctor is annoyed. "For the one-hundredth time, you can't smoke in here!" he scolds him.

Thor looks sheepish momentarily before apologizing and putting away his vape pen. "Sorry, doc. Got carried away," he says with a chuckle.

"Mikey, I'll be back at my usual time tomorrow to help get you out of here. Love you, guys." Thor kissed my forehead and whispered, "Tomorrow, we rage." He fell backward, tripping while playing air guitar and smacking the room door frame, letting out a giant scream.

As Thor exited the hospital room, Mary entered, her face alight with joy. "Everyone is very excited to have our Mikey awake," she said, slightly clapping her hands. I felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over me, and I clutched at the sheets, trying to steady myself.

The room began to spin, and I felt myself being pulled under. The doctor rushed to my side, helping me to lay back down. I could see the look of concern etched on everyone's faces as the world around me faded to black.

Suddenly, I found myself sitting in the passenger seat of an older-looking car. The driver was a man with an expressionless face. His eyes fixed on the road ahead. I tried to get his attention, but he remained silent and unmoving, his expression never changing.

As I looked out the front windshield, I realized we were driving through a thick fog. The man suddenly switched on his brights, which only made it worse. I panicked, frantically looking around the car for any sign of where we were or were headed.

That's when I noticed the visor shade hanging above me. With a sudden burst of courage, I pulled it down and stared at my reflection in the mirror. It was then that I saw the man behind the wheel was me. I gasped in shock, staring at the driver and then back at my reflection. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

Suddenly, the airbags deployed without warning, and I was jolted back to reality. I opened my eyes to find myself back in my hospital room, my heart racing and my mind reeling. I was alone and looked at the clock to see it was 2:59 AM. I lay and sat staring at that clock, trying to remember everything from my past. The more I tried to remember, the more lost I felt. It was like trying to navigate a maze with no map. Whenever I thought I was making progress, I hit a dead end.

Hours seemed to pass as I sat there, lost in my thoughts. And then, suddenly, the clock changed. It now reads 8:30 AM. Had I fallen asleep? Or had time passed that quickly? I shook my head, feeling more lost.

Just then, the door to my hospital room opened, and a nurse walked in carrying a tray of food. "Good morning, Michael," she chirped, setting the tray on the bedside table. "How are you feeling today?"

I stared at her blankly, feeling like a stranger in my body. "I... I don't know," I replied.

The nurse frowned, her expression filled with concern. "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you," she said, patting my hand before leaving the room.

Looking down at the food tray, I realized I couldn't even remember what I liked to eat. Everything felt like a blank slate, a void waiting to be filled.

I was startled when the doctor entered my room carrying a clipboard and photos. His tone was apprehensive and nervous, but I focused all my energy on paying attention. Finally, finally, I would get some answers.

"Good morning, Michael. We need to chat about your current situation," he said, setting the chart on his clipboard and reviewing a few things.

He pulled up a chair and cleared his throat before continuing. "Well, now, you were in a car accident." He handed me photos of the crash.

As I looked at the photos, my eyes widened in shock. It was the same car as my dream the night before. The wreckage looked like it had been torn apart by some monstrous force. Nobody should have survived.

"According to the police report, you were stuck in the middle of an intersection trying to make it through a turn signal when an oncoming driver t-boned you," the doctor explained.

The doctor seemed to sense my confusion and leaned forward, his voice gentle. "Michael, you suffered a severe head injury in the accident. Unfortunately, it's resulted in amnesia, which means you can't remember anything from your past. Not even your name."

I felt a wave of panic wash over me at his words. How could I not remember who I was? What kind of person had I been before the accident? My mind was a blank slate, a void waiting to be filled.

The doctor placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry. We have specialists who can work with you to try and regain your memories. It will be a long road, but you're not alone."

I listened intently as the doctor spoke, trying to absorb every detail about my life before the accident.

"It feels like I am," I muttered under my breath, feeling disconnected from the life he was describing.

But the doctor seemed to sense my hesitation and leaned forward his voice firm. "From what I can tell, you have a big support team. Your parents, that crazy lunatic Thor. Even some of your coworkers from the pizza shop came by to see you. You've been the most visited patient since you arrived about a month ago."

"Pizza place?" I asked, trying to make sense of the mention of my coworkers.

The doctor nodded. "Yeah, you're a delivery driver for Pappy's Pizza just down the road here. Best pizza in town. You've worked there on and off since you've been in high school."

"How old am I?" I asked, feeling a sense of unease at the thought of missing years of my life.

"Twenty-six," the doctor replied.

"Where do I live?" I asked, trying to piece together any shred of memory.

"With your parents," he answered.

"Do I have any hobbies?" I asked, hoping to gain some insight into my former life.

"I don't know. I'm sure you do," the doctor replied, sounding long-winded.

"When can I leave?" I asked, cutting him off mid-response.

"Hopefully this Saturday, but no promises," he replied, standing up to take the photos from my lap. "We need to ensure you don't have any more brain bleeding before we send you back into the world. We did a lot to keep you alive. We wouldn't want all that work to be for nothing," he chuckled.

I couldn't help but laugh along with him, despite the situation. It was funny, in a dark and twisted way. But as I thought about my life, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was a bit of a loser. Was I living with my parents and working at a pizza place at twenty-six? What had I been doing with my life?

But as the doctor left the room, I made a silent promise to myself. I would leave this hospital and change some shit in my life. Maybe I was a loser before, but I wouldn't be one anymore.