[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/d27ab5e7-ae00-4588-bcef-305ed7c8427f.png[/img][/center] [code]St. Mercer Hospital[/code] [sub][/sub] [hr] Paige's dreams were, as if with those of the other Awakened, truly horrific. She remembered the day she was shot. She saw herself obliviously walking home, perfectly unaware of what was about to happen. She wanted to scream at that younger, happier Paige, to tell her to run and run and not look back. She tried. But the younger Paige couldn't hear her. Her present self saw the men go in to the store, but her past self paid no attention. It was only when she heard shouting that the past Paige looked into the store, and saw the two men pointing guns at the owner. They were jumpy, nervous. They had never committed a crime before, and were unused to the tension that came from the knowledge that their actions might ruin their lives. Quite possibly, they were also high. She saw them, and they saw that she saw them, saw her gasp and panic and try to decide what to in that split second. They reacted faster, but only out of instinct, not clear or logical thought. And so they were just as surprised as she was when there was a thunderous crack, the sound of shattering glass, and a shooting pain in her right thigh. The last thing that the younger Paige saw before she fell unconscious was the concrete rapidly getting closer. Waking up, in a hospital. This memory nearly as unpleasant as the one before it. Feeling strange, and afraid. No one else present, no one else knowing she had woken up. Feeling weak, but wanting to understand why... why something. It felt like nothing she had ever felt before. In fact, it felt like nothing. Surely a bullet wound would hurt? Paige didn't understand, it was difficult to think clearly. Lifting the sheet, just to see, just to find out what had happened. And seeing nothing there. Nothing but a bandaged stump just a few inches above where her right knee should have been. Hyperventilating, panicking, as she understood. A doctor coming in, rushing over, just in time to see her fall unconscious. The next few days were murky. They had been filled with dreams which seemed real, and realities which seemed dreamlike. Living through the event for the first time, then encountering it again and again in nightmares. Hoping that none of it was real, and she'd wake up at home, healthy and happy, any minute now. White lights. Seeing her parents. Polite conversations which never seemed to help. Neither Laura nor Michael were the sort of person who could help with purely emotional matters. When they wanted to make a person happy, they'd identify the source of the problem, work out how to fix it, draw up a plan... they were [i]solution[/i] people. Not [i]feeling[/i] people. And there was no solution here. Paige watched herself go through all this. She saw herself realise that she'd never properly take part in any sport ever again. She saw herself feel that her life had been wasted, and that it no longer mattered what she chose to do. She saw herself put on the prosthetic for the first time, that which she hated so much, and which became a symbol of weakness for her, which she had relied on the rest of her life regardless, because she had to. Paige lived again through the worst days of her life. The only mercy was that she did not have to relive the months that followed. [hr] Paige woke up to a worryingly familiar scene. Once again, waking up in a hospital room. Her instinct was that this was another dream, but after a moment it was clear it wasn't; the room was similar, but not the same, and she didn't have that same feeling as before, that she as watching events she had already experienced. This time, it was happening now, and it was real. And if it was real, she was in danger. Her last memories were of running, and of darkness and fear and death. Paige sat up in her bed as quickly as she could in this weakened state, spotting her crutch and prosthesis leaning against the wall, a few feet away. Close, but not close enough to reach from here. For anyone else, it was only two or three steps away. But for some, it's not that easy. Paige sat on the edge of the bed, and set her left foot against the floor, and pushed off, hard. She fell against the wall, tried turning, and half-succeeded. Her back was now against the wall, with the crutch and prosthesis next to her, but in getting their, she had fallen painfully. "Fuck!" she whispered harshly in reaction to the sudden pain, before setting about putting on the prosthesis. Once finished, Paige slowly got to her feet, and made her way out into the corridor. She was just getting her bearings when she heard a scream.