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	Hearing the announcements from her room, Gwen pulled a pillow over her head and groaned. “It’s too early for this,” she muttered. All she wanted in that moment was a few more minutes to enjoy the blank abyss of sleep. In the end though, she sighed and sat up, admitting defeat against the voice from the system. [i]They are all too cheerful for this place,[/i] she thought, a bit envious at how seamless it seemed for them. 

	Gwen pulled the blanket back as the voice droned on, noting the cooking class in very mild interest before her eyes landed on her legs. Correction. Her one leg and the lack of the other. That disfigured stump seemed to taunt her as it did every morning. Sometimes, Gwen felt like her left leg was still there beyond the grotesque scar but, other times, it was a painful reminder of the crash that stole it from her. The crash that stole everything from her. The crash that-

	[i]Enough.[/i]

	Inhale. 1… 2… 3…

	Hold. 1… 2… 3…

	Exhale. 1… 2… 3…

	Focus on the voice. Focus on the brush of the blanket and the stillness of the air. [i]This[/i] is the present moment.

	Gwen continued her routine after a moment, focusing on her prosthesis next. First, the liner. No air? Check. Then, a sock to help it fit better. Finally, the leg. As Gwen stood, there was an audible hiss as air escaped the prosthesis. Step, pss. Step, pss. Step, pss. Over and over as the vacuum mechanism attached the fake leg to her appendage. [i]Oh. The announcements ended,[/i] she noticed. [i]Well, at least one of us was able to get better. Now if only I could do the same.[/i] 

	Finally having dressed in a simple white skirt - a much better alternative than pants with her prosthesis - Gwen was ready to leave her room. She grabbed her notebook and pen, a wonderful commodity in a place that felt perpetually consistent, and headed to the lounge to enjoy some blissful writing.

	[i]"Just shut up! Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Please."[/i] 

	Ah- Olivia? That was her name, right? Why was she- [i]It’s not my business what she’s going through.[/i] Even still, Gwen could not help but worry about the girl with dazzling blue hair. The nurses had come to her aid quickly, but being trapped in one’s own mind was the worst possible feeling. Maybe there was some way she could help?  

	Gwen settled into the corner of a couch, flipping to a page scrawled with numerous story ideas and world settings. The pen connected, and words flew from the ink to the page, adding to the edits from before. 

	[i]Grr…[/i]

	“I forgot breakfast,” she muttered to herself as her stomach sounded a low rumble. By this time, Olivia had returned to her place on the other couch in the lounge and, as Gwen glanced at her, a brilliant idea sprung forth. Well, it would be brilliant if Olivia accepted anyway.

	“Hey. Olivia, right?” Gwen provided a gentle smile towards her as she approached, notebook in hand. “I haven’t eaten yet, and I didn’t really want to eat alone. Would you like to join me?”