The world is a blur of harsh lights and cacophonous noise as we arrive at the hospital. My head feels like it’s been split open with a dull axe, and every movement sends waves of nausea crashing through me. The antiseptic smell, so typical of hospitals, makes my stomach churn even more. Fuck, I hate hospitals.
“Skylar? Can you hear me?” Vivian’s voice cuts through the chaos, sounding distant and muffled, like she’s speaking through layers of cotton.