My eyes capture the emptiness of the room I find myself in. The bed on which I lay is soft, white and extremely comforting. It almost succeeds in pulling me back to sleep. I set my head back on the pillow and feel it compress with the weight of it. So satisfactory- the feel of the soft pillow against my head. I shut my eyes and think of the dream I had been seeing the previous night. Not a single image comes to my mind. I think harder- reminiscing the theme of what my dream was. Fantasy, adventure, horror... Nothing seems right.

  I open my eyes again and stare at the light blue ceiling that hovers over me. The paint has faded, I think. As if by reflex, I rub my eyes. The vigour makes my eyes blurry when I open them again. The edges of the ceiling fade away. Reluctantly, I pull myself away from the pacifying pillow and sit on the edge of the bed. My body does not have the energy to sit. Fatigue has taken over since last night, I believe.

  What happened last night?

  I don’t seem to recollect the events of the previous night. I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. Was I kidnapped? Was my memory erased? Was I concussed? Everything sounds plausible. I look around the room and don’t see much. It’s like a hospital. Similar to the ceiling, the walls are painted light blue, the tiles on the floor are creamy white and immaculately clean. A little more shine to them would have made them mirrors. A table next to me has plastic flowers- maybe lilies. I don’t know. I am not a florist. On the table is a glass of water. Again, the cleanliness of the glass is unreal. A mirror on the far side of the room is a mirror that extends from the floor all the way to the ceiling. Next to it, a door remains locked. I can see the latch taut from inside.

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  I step down from the bed and land on fluffy slippers. The softness takes me by surprise- I immediately pull my legs up. I lean down to see the slippers- white and larger than what my feet needed. I slip my legs into them, taking in the cool and the comfort they provide. I find solace in the very fact that I can walk. The other senses remain a mystery. Inadvertently, I walk over to the mirror and stand still.

  The man I see is clean shaven, has great hair, tall, slim and fair-complexioned. I am happy with what I see. My fitness and well-being in understanding this is good progress. This proves I can figure out what happened last night. I glance down at myself and check myself out. The mirror’s reflection is not flawed. I smile at the mirror and turn to look around.

  Just then, there is a knock at the door next to the mirror. My muscles refuse to move. I stay still.

  The knock intensifies.