All White
Ellen's eyes fluttered open, and all she could see was a bright white fog. She blinked a few times, squinting as the bright lights above her slowly came into view. She struggled to move her head, feeling a strange stiffness in her neck, and with a great deal of effort, shifted her gaze around the room. White walls, white sheets—it all felt eerily calm.
Carefully, Ellen raised her hand, feeling as if she were moving through water. Her fingers trembled as they hovered above the bed. Her arm felt unusually heavy, as though it hadn't been moved in ages. She flexed her fingers, feeling the stiffness in her joints, and a realization struck her. This... this is a hospital, she thought, the idea both strange and comforting. The last thing she remembered was Hans, the gun, that awful, sharp pain in her chest. For a moment, the blinding white light had her wondering if she was… gone.