Nia was transferred to a gurney and wheeled through long, convoluted corridors. She lost track of time, listening to snippets of conversations echoing around: "…unusual case…", "…cognitive impairment…", "…requires full diagnostics…". What are they saying? In what language? Although…somehow I understand them, the girl wondered.
She was wheeled for so long that Nia completely lost her sense of direction. Where are they taking me? What are they going to do to me? And why does this hospital look so old-fashioned? Is this some kind of secret facility? She tried to sit up to look around, but her body still wouldn't obey her.
Suddenly, someone leaned over Nia and gave her an injection. A very ordinary injection, with a syringe. It was so unexpected and archaic that she didn't even have time to get scared. An injection? Why? Her vision went dark, and she fell into oblivion.
Nia woke up in a bright room, connected to many wires and sensors. People in light blue suits crowded around her, discussing something animatedly. They were talking out loud, in normal voices! After the silent streets and emotionless faces, it seemed incredibly strange and even a little scary to her. Did they even see that she had woken up?
"…unusual indicators…", "…complete amnesia…", "…no signs of brain damage…", – snippets of phrases reached her. Nia tried to understand what was happening, but no one was listening to her. Doctors and technicians continued to perform some manipulations, take tests, scan her body. Like a guinea pig. What were they looking for? She tried to say something, but her throat seemed to constrict.
After a series of tiring and pointless, as it seemed to Nia, experiments and tests, she was finally disconnected from the equipment and transferred to a small room, painted in white and gray tones. The room contained a bed, a bedside table, and a chair. No windows, no personal belongings. Only cold, faceless walls. Nia was left alone, without explanation and hope for rescue. “Prison. I'm in prison,” she sat on the bed, feeling the coldness of the sheets.
The days dragged on slowly and monotonously. Periodically, people in blue suits entered the room and asked Nia the same questions:
– How are you called?
– Where do you live?
– What do you remember?
She honestly answered that she remembered nothing, but they didn't seem to believe her. Their faces remained impenetrable, like masks. Why ask the same thing if you don't believe it? Are they mocking me? After they left, Nia went to the bedside table and looked at her reflection in the metallic surface. The same unfamiliar girl with brown eyes full of despair.
Most of the time Nia spent alone. She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to find at least some crack, at least some clue. Or wandered around the room, touching the walls, as if trying to feel a way out. But it was all in vain. There was emptiness in her head.
Three times a day, food was brought to the room. For breakfast, lunch, and dinner, she was served nutritious but completely tasteless porridge and some pills. The food looked quite normal, but after what she had seen in the city: those colorful plasticine snacks, capsules, and other synthetic foods, Nia began to suspect something was wrong. Why do I get normal food, while everyone else gets something strange? Are they hiding something? Or do they want to feed me something?
