CARLA
It’s strange, being awake like this. For the past week or two, the world had been a blur of beeping machines, sterile white walls, and the faint smell of antiseptic that never quite left my nose. I couldn't place what had happened, not really. It was like the details of the night of the attack were buried under layers of fog, a haze I couldn’t cut through no matter how hard I tried.
All I remembered clearly was pain. The sharp sting of claws slashing through my skin, the feeling of blood flowing in thick streams, and then nothing. The darkness had been kind of a relief, to be honest. Not knowing whether I’d survive or not was somehow better than having to live with the memory of it.
But now, the haze was lifting. Slowly, very slowly.
I blinked, staring up at the unfamiliar ceilin
