Beep. Beep.

That was the first thing I ever heard. I’d only just woken up and my eyes were still closed. I didn’t know what the sound was but it kept going, in a clear, concise pattern.

Beep. Beep.

Why couldn’t it just stop? I only wanted to go back to sleep. But that noise was so insistent, and something was blowing softly on my face. I groaned annoyance to myself and tried to get comfortable again, to ignore the sound that kept going, but I couldn’t.

Very slowly, I opened my eyes. Gray. Everything was either gray, white or a near colorless beige. I was on my back so the first I saw was the ceiling. There was a pattern there, too. Three plain ceiling tiles and then a rectangle of lights, the kind I’ve only ever seen used in schools. The lights weren’t on, thankfully. They probably would have blinded me otherwise.

There was something on my face, something that covered my nose and mouth, like a kind of mask. I figured it must have been what was breathing on me. I moved my hand to swat it away, but I was distracted by a slight tugging sensation. I raised my hand closer to eye level and saw there tubes connected to it. At least, I thought that’s what they were. They could have been wires and cables for all I knew. They were all over my hand and arm, attached by tape. I flexed my fingers. The tape pulled at my skin. I turned my head to try and see what my hand was connected to. I glimpsed devices of some sort but they were too far out of my field of vision. I did, however see the bars on the bed. They were only along where my arms were. I reached out my fingers to them. I still recall the soft whisking of the blankets as my hand moved across. The bars were cold to the touch and made me shiver. It felt good though, in a way, and I tried to wrap my whole hand around. I couldn’t do it. I just didn’t have the strength.

All this time, I kept hearing: beep. Beep.

Somehow or another, I managed to paw the mask off, making it fall down around my neck. Not that I noticed it much after that. I wanted to find out where that noise was coming from.

It took such a long time to sit up. It felt like my arms hadn’t moved in years. First, I checked my left hand. There were thin tubes on it too. And then I looked up and saw the beeping machine beside me. It had a screen face with an array of numbers along the top and side. But the largest portion was given to a green line that peaked three times close together. I watched a black dot move along the flat part of the line, then jump up the peaks at exactly the same moment the machine beeped. I watched it do this over and over again several times until I realized what it was.

It was my heartbeat. That was the pattern.

I probably should have panicked around this point, or had a reaction of some sort. But I questioned nothing. Instead, I looked around the rest of the room.

There was a trio of chairs lined up next to the door. There was a man in one of them. He’d fallen asleep with his head resting in the palm of his hand, which didn’t look all that comfortable. He looked completely exhausted, like he hadn’t slept for days. Regardless of this, I could still see he wasn’t very old. I only stared at him for a second or two before moving on.

On the wall opposite me was a generic-looking framed painting. It must have been added some time ago in an attempt to put some cheer into the room, but the colors were faded and appeared washed out.

Dominating the right wall was a large window. The curtains were pulled open as far as they could go, so I had a full view of sky. It might have been a sunny day somewhere else in the world, but, where I was, there were too many clouds in the way. Again, everything was colorless.

And all I did was think about what a normal day it was.

Beep. Beep.

It was so quiet. Even with the mechanical impersonation of my heartbeat forever repeating, I could still hear so much. A horn blared outside the window and quickly faded into nothing. The man in the chair was breathing loudly. A couple walked down the hall and I heard pieces of a muffled conversation. Somewhere, someone laughed.

I stared out the window for a long time, forcing myself to stay awake. The urge to lay back and fall asleep was overpowering, almost to the point of being unbearable, but I fought against it. Something— an intuition, I guess you could call it—told me that I’d been sleeping long enough. But, even though I tried hard not to stop, my eyes kept staying closed whenever I blinked. My willpower was dissolving and the sound of my heartbeat soon resembled a lullaby.

A sudden loud noise from the left side of the room made me jump. The heart rate machine lost its steady rhythm and started beeping faster. But nothing major had happened. The man’s head had slumped forward, jolting him awake. He muttered something incoherent to himself while he rubbed his hand roughly over his face. He’d just started to run his fingers through his hair when he saw me. For near a solid minute, all he did was gape at me, with such a look of pure astonishment as I’ve never seen on a person since. And then his face relaxed with relief and he whispered, “You’re awake.”

I made no noise, other than breathing. What could I say? I didn’t know who he was and why he was talking to me. I still didn’t know where I was.

I watched the man stand up and walk towards me. He moved slowly and carefully, as if he expected me to flinch at the least sudden movement. He stood diagonal from me, slightly forward, one hand resting on top of the bed bars, the other hovering in the air. I wonder now if he was unsure of what to do or if he was merely contemplating his next action. Without warning, his arms wrapped around me and he hugged me so tight he practically squeezed the breath out of me. The machine quickened its tempo.

“I was so sure you were gone forever.” His voice was right in my ear. It was hoarse and filled with a strange mix of happiness and remorse. His words stuck in my head. However, their meaning was lost on me.

He pulled away but kept his hands on my shoulders. I still remember how heavy they felt. Leaning down so he was near my eye level, he started talking again and his words came out rushed. “What happened? I only left for an hour and I come back to find you— I thought you were dead! You were out of it for so long. Do you have any idea how worried I was over you? I kept expecting a phone call to tell me to start planning a funeral. And Mom…” His voice died away and silence returned to the room. I thought he might possibly leave, but he gave a weak attempt at a smile and said, much calmer than before, “Well, we don’t have to worry about that.”

I felt dizzy, like my mind was moving while my body kept still. And, to put it bluntly, I was scared. I tried to hide this fact but he must have still seen it because he asked, suddenly protective, “What’s wrong?”

I opened my mouth to talk but all that came out was a noise that sounded like a strangled “Um.” I thought he must have gotten me mixed up with someone he knew, someone that was most definitely not me. I told him, in a voice meant to be respectful but seemed more reluctant, “I… I don’t mean to sound impolite but… have we ever… met before?”

His fingers dug into my shoulder blades. I tried not to cringe or make a sound, pretending like he hadn’t just caused me pain, but the sudden increase of beeping in the room gave me away. Gradually, he lifted his hand off me. His eyes showed that he, too, was in pain, though his wasn’t physical, like mine. I’d just ruined any happiness he’d had.

He set one hand down on the bed, next to my feet, and pressed the other one against his chest. Speaking clearly, he said “I’m Nick.” When he saw the name meant nothing to me, he pressed his hand even harder into himself, insisting “I’m your brother.”

I had to turn away. I couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. I was hurting him so much but I didn’t know why. Why were my words so powerful all of a sudden? I didn’t mean to hurt him. I really didn’t. It just happened.

Though my mind felt distress, my heart was strangely calm.

Beep. Beep.

The sound of life can get very annoying very quickly. But for a long, long time, it was all I heard.

I recoiled the instant I felt something brush against my arm. The man’s hand drew back just as fast. He mumbled an apology while looking down at the bed sheet. I felt even worse. I wanted to reassure him that I wasn’t afraid of him, that he didn’t need to apologize. But, at the same time, I thought it better to say nothing at all. I hadn’t done anything right so far, judging by his reactions.

I took too long to figure it out and the moment passed.

Hesitantly, he asked, “You really don’t remember me?”

I knew my answer right away, but he wouldn’t like it. Nevertheless, he wanted to know.

I confessed, still averting my eyes, “I don’t.” Then I thought about it. The farthest back my mind would go was to when I woke, only minutes before. I looked up to the window, where clouds hid the sun. “I don’t remember anything.”

Beep. Beep.