Nights are the most disturbing part of all this.

Ever since I've become more aware of myself, I've also started to sense the energy of people and things around me—
From the hum of the machines nearby,
To that feeling some people give you when they're too close—
That sensation that prickles your skin.

But not all of it is pleasant.

At night, sometimes, I feel the presence—or rather, presences—
Something like people hovering around me.

I feel their eyes on me.

I feel like they're waiting for me.

Like I'm being watched.

Like someone—or something—is just waiting for the smallest moment of weakness to attack.

I wake up, shattered, drowning in feverish nightmares,
And I don't understand what's happening.

Then, I turn my head and see my sister, always by my side.

And my brother-in-law, a little more intermittent.

And suddenly—
I remember everything.

I barely speak anymore.

Every time I try to say something,
Every time I even try to communicate,
My mother and sister collapse into an inconsolable sorrow.

I've collapsed twice trying to stand up.

I've tried to look at myself in the mirror.

I know that after the car fire, I must be scarred for life.

Every time I try to grab a mirror,
Someone takes it away from me.

But I can touch my own skin beneath the bandages.

With my fingertips, I trace the raw, scorched surface of my face.

It burns.

It feels rough.

Not entirely, but enough.

I know I'm marked—
Maybe forever.

The psychological evaluations were a nightmare.

They tested both my mind and my body—

And I was in no condition to take any kind of test.

On my good days,
I'm somewhat aware of myself and my surroundings.

I can try to talk,
Though I can barely communicate in the most basic ways—
Asking for water,
Begging them to wait a little longer between bites,
Simple things.

I fell apart when I found out my niece was in a coma.

No one told me outright.

But I've overheard bits and pieces of conversations,
Stray fragments that I've pieced together.

Everything points to one thing—

My little niece is at the end of the hallway.

Room 480.

As soon as I can...

I'll go see her.

But every time I try to stand,
I collapse.

My strength—
It leaks out of me,
A massive drain,
An uncontrollable weakness I can't fight.

I can't control my body.

I can't even speak properly.

I can't be me.

There's someone watching me.

From outside my room.

They're not a doctor.

But they just... stare.

They never look away.

One of the three.

The ones who are always there.

Watching.

Saying nothing.

Never smiling.

Never blinking.

And it unsettles me.

They scare me.

I don't want to be alone.

Not with them outside.

One of them is there.

I don't know which one.

The shadows make it impossible to tell.

"Jump."

I hear it.

Or maybe—

"Let go."

Or...

I don't know.

I don't know.