Can you hear music through an unconscious haze?

⇐ [Angie, Elizabeth] 

Other than her uncle's apartment, the only other home she had ever lived in was their hole-in-the-wall clinic back in Russia. Back there, an unmarked wooden door was all that indicated the local clinic. If one were to enter it, they'll come upon a musty room that housed an old, rectangular table covered by a sheet of whatever happened to be available. That was where they would carry out operations, and the then scarlet-stained covering would be discarded outside, possibly burnt. The room also functioned as a place for the injured to recover, with blankets and worm-eaten mattresses stuffed in one corner.


While definitely capable of giving a health-inspector a heart attack, it was what she and her family had to work with. And at the end of the day, lives saved were lives saved and a debt for her family to cash in on.


After the first room was their kitchen/dining area/living room hybrid. As the name implies, anything to do with sitting around and or eating took place in that one area. The only sofa they had was there too, which was one piece of furniture Angie grew fond of after the many countless hours spent on it. This was also where she and her father slept, with him insisting on giving Angie their sofa while he slept on a mattress placed on the floor. Her father would give her the warmer blanket too, but he would often wake up to find it draped over him instead.


And now, it looks like she'll have to get used to a third place of residence. After locating her own room, Angie had methodically gone over all the belongings inside. It came as a surprise to her when she found medical supplies that she could use, as well as some thick books that acted as reference material. Strangely enough, it felt like the room was hers to begin with.


Stretching, she laid down and stared at the ceiling's blank canvas. It was a guilty habit of hers, often resulting in bitter happiness instead of the more pleasant emotions. Her thoughts first drifted to her uncle, and how lonely he must be. She was the niece he never had, filling up the black void of his life. Now he'll be back to living alone with the ghosts of precious memories. She imagined their house, filled once again by only the miserable sound of mindless television. The smile he had when cooking for her will disappear too, along with any signs of the new life they brought up in his kitchen. And to think, he was so excited about shopping for new utensils just a few weeks ago. They had plans to mess around with it the next time she went over for a visit.



Sighing, she got out of bed and took one last look at her room. Grabbing her card key, she clicked her tongue as she stepped into the corridor. Just what the hell was going on with the room? The items inside and the apparent familiarity she had with it is was not only uncanny - it was downright disturbing.