____Hope; the belief in things yet unseen.

"Mrs White?"

I struggled to blink back tears that threatened to slip from the corner of my eyes, as they slowly adjusted to the growing darkness.

I craned my neck to stare at the moonlight that shone it's light through the open curtains and partly illuminated the cold, dark room.

My eyes roved over the environment I was in. To my left was a gurney and a huge, metal table that stood by it with different tablets and sharp, pointed needles that almost stuck out, and looked too clustered for me to note anything perculiar.

That told me distinctly that I was in a hospital. I gulped as I turned my head painstakingly, to my right. There was a hospital bed by the far corner. It filled almost the entire length of the room and the spreads were well laid out as if someone just vacated from the space.

I slowly took in the garment I was clothed in. It was a starched gown of whose colour I couldn't decipher because of the insufficient lighting. The cloth felt stiff and didn't do justice to my slim curves. It was fitted from my neck up to my small, firm breasts and then it flowed down to my knees.

I sat up with much effort, grunting at every ounce of pain I felt in all parts of my body. My head was pounding with a resounding headache that made me unaware of the golden chains that cuffed my wrists to the edge of the bed.

It was only when I tried moving my legs which felt like heavy pots of lead, did I realize that I was actually chained, the sound reverberating throughout the walls of the nearly- empty room. My mind was foggy, my vision was blurry and for a minute, I sat still staring at nothing and unable to form any coherent thoughts.

My head whoozed and I felt a bit faint. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, wanting to recall the memories of the past but, I couldn't. Nothing came to mind and I slid back into the thin, transparent sheets that covered my mid- region.

I only hoped someone would come for me. A person that truly cared about my existence and well-being at least. I felt a slight chill that spread throughout my entire body and made me curl my toes.

It was cold. Too cold. I rubbed my bare arms and breathed deeply, expelling a thin whif of smoke into the cold air. I was trying my best to stay calm and not freak out over the fact that I was chained to a hospital bed, my heart was beating rapidly and my hands started to get clammy as I kept on rubbing it over and over. My nails were scratching at the insides of my palm and drawing blood.

I could hear the crickets chirping right outside my window and I felt a shiver run through me and made my blood go cold. A fierce wind was blowing through the curtains and rattling the wheels of the bed as I struggled to break free of the chain.

I grunted in pain and kept on grinding them on the edge of the bed, thinking they would eventually give way but the chains remained adamant and as strong a hold as ever.

I knew if I eventually got out of this, the deep, cut marks that were engraved on my skin would last forever. I felt a mind blowing pain slice through my wrist as one of the jagged edges of the chain snapped and punctured my right hand. I winced in pain and gritted my teeth sharply, my vision blurred with tiny dots that seemed to cloud the room.

I didn't do anything wrong to deserve death did I? Why was I here? What did I do to warrant the paramedics bringing me to this cold, dark hospital? How do I get out? So many thoughts were running through my head at the same time; each one of them clamouring to overpower the other. I shook my my head slightly to get rid of any lingering thoughts as I settled in, trying to get some sleep.

Maybe when I wake up, I will be able to fully understand what's going on.

As I felt myself being pulled by the embers of sleep, I silently noted the hushed whispers coming from the closed door. It was too tiny and minute to decipher. I laid still, too afraid to move as I swallowed visibly and strained my ears.

I couldn't make anything out. The sound of footsteps was the only thing that was distinct as it echoed throughout the walls and slowly faded away. I was left here to die. To rot and go to hell, without a care in the world. There was no hope for survival. No way out.

I heaved a deep sigh as the reality came crashing down on me. A tear slid freely from the corner of my eyes and dropped onto my disfiguring gown.

I was too weak to move or say anything, infact, I felt my throat constrict and made me unable to form any sounds apart from the low guttural grunts that escaped from the back of my throat. My eyes grew round in fear as I spotted a shadow just by the corner of the door; staring at me. But, before I could think much of it, it had disappeared in a flash.

I was scared, I bit my lips until I could feel blood dripping from the tips and colouring the taste of my mouth, making me spit on the floor by the left side of the bed, and I shivered in fear.

I didn't know if I would ever make it out of this situation alive. I could only hope that 'hope' would be sufficient for me. At least for now, it was all I had and all I needed to keep me going.

With that thought, I let myself drift to a nightmare– filled sleep, bunching the thin, transparent sheet in my arms.