Me i don’t know

I had been trying to open my eyes for so long, and finally, I did. The environment around me was surprising. I found myself in a small room—not a big room by any means—with walls painted a stark, all-white color. I was lying on a single bed, the only bed in the room. Beside me was a small table, unfamiliar to me, with various objects scattered on its surface—things I couldn’t recognize. Directly in front of me, a small TV was mounted on the wall, and to my side, there was a lone chair and a bouquet of flowers.

“Where am I?” I asked myself, the question echoing in the quiet room. I tried to shake my head, hoping it would clear my thoughts and prove that this was all just a dream. But nothing changed. Confusion twisted through my mind, and I couldn’t remember anything—how I got here or even where here was. A sharp ache started to build in my head as I strained to make sense of my surroundings.

Just then, the door creaked open, and someone walked in. The headache flared, and I instinctively held my head, trying to ease the pain.

“You’re awake,” said a calm, almost angelic voice. The sound shocked me, and I looked up. The face before me took my breath away: a man, strikingly handsome, with a smooth, light complexion that radiated warmth and health. His jawline was strong and well-defined, giving structure to his chiseled features, while high cheekbones lent a touch of elegance to his face. His eyes were bright and captivating, a blend of charm and intensity, framed by dark, thick lashes. His hair was perfectly groomed, adding to the polished look that made him seem both powerful and refined.

He took a step closer, concern filling his eyes. “What happened?” he asked gently.

I tried to respond, but my mind was still frantically piecing everything together, struggling to process my surroundings and the events that led me here.

He observed my silence and nodded thoughtfully. “I should call the doctor.”

“Wait, who’s that?” I asked myself again, struggling to piece things together.

Not long after, the door opened again. It was the same man, but this time, three others followed him: a man in his fifties, dressed in a white coat, and two women also dressed in white.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

The older man stepped forward and introduced himself. “I’m Doctor Wale.”

Just then, a piercing ache shot through my head, and I clutched it tightly, wincing. “Where am I? Who are all of you? What’s happening to me?”

Doctor Wale raised his hand in a calming gesture. “Please, try to relax,” he said gently. “Do you remember your name?”

“My name?” I echoed, looking around the room, but the answer wouldn’t come. “What’s my name?” I murmured to no one in particular. I shook my head. “No, I don’t remember.”

“What about your family?”

“Family?” I looked at him, bewildered. “No… I don’t remember anything.”

My head throbbed harder, the pain intensifying until I let out a soft cry.

“Calm down, miss,” Doctor Wale said soothingly. He nodded toward one of the women, who stepped forward with a syringe. Before I could react, I felt a slight prick in my arm. My eyelids grew heavy as I tried to stay awake, confusion swirling in my mind.

“Wait…” I whispered, but darkness quickly overtook me.