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Chapter 1: Waking Up from a Trance

The first thing he felt was confusion. A sense of disorientation, like waking up from a deep sleep and not knowing where he was.

He tried to open his eyes but they felt heavy, and his head felt like it was weighed down by a ton of bricks. As he slowly became more aware of his surroundings, he noticed a strong smell of disinfectant and the sound of muffled voices in the distance.

He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but he could tell they were speaking in hushed tones. He tried to move, but his body felt heavy and unresponsive. It was like he was trapped in his skin. As he struggled to lift his head, he caught sight of a fire extinguisher and some kind of transparent plastic tubing looped over a bracket on the wall.

This made no sense to him, but it was all he could focus on in his disoriented state. It was like his mind was grasping for something, anything, to make sense of what was happening to him. As he tried to piece together his memories, he realized that he couldn't remember anything. No past, no identity, nothing. It was like he was a blank slate.

This realization filled him with a sense of unease. How could he not remember anything? Who was he? And why was he here? Despite his confusion, exhaustion soon took over and he drifted back into a dreamless sleep.

He surfaced again, slowly becoming aware of the soft hum of machinery in the background. He blinked a few times, struggling to focus on his surroundings. As his vision cleared, he saw the two nurses standing beside him once more. They were smiling at him as if they were happy to see him awake.

The one who had spoken earlier spoke up again. "Hello, Mister Millord. How are you feeling today?"

"Mister Millord?" he repeated, confused. He shook his head, feeling a sudden sense of panic and uncertainty.

The nurses exchanged a concerned look, and he could tell they were trying to keep him calm. "Yes? Don't worry, Mister Millord," the nurse said in a soothing voice. "It's normal to feel disoriented after an accident. Your memory might come back slowly over time. And don't try to sit for now."

"What…What happened to me?" he asked urgently.

"You were in an accident," the nurse said gently. "You're lucky to be alive. You've been here in the hospital for a while now, recovering. But don't worry, we're here to help you get better."

He felt a wave of relief wash over him, mixed with a sense of fear. What kind of person was he before? And why couldn't he remember anything? He knew he needed to find out, but for now, he should be grateful to be alive.

He felt his eyelids drooping and realized he was starting to drift off again. As his consciousness faded away, it was like watching a fade-to-black in a film. He felt a peaceful calm wash over him as he slipped back into a deep sleep.

When he woke up again, he wasn't sure how long he had been asleep. He tried to move, but a sharp pain in his head hindered him. He lay back down, closing his eyes, hoping the pain would subside.

The nurses came and went, checking on him periodically. He didn't have any sense of time passing. But there was one person who seemed to be a constant presence: a woman with dark hair and big, sorrowful eyes. She visited him often and claimed to be his wife, but he couldn't remember her.

As he lay on the bed, he heard the door open, and his heart raced. He knew who it was before she even walked in. Leslie. He pretended to be asleep, but he knew she wouldn't fall for it. She never did.

She walked over to him, and he could feel her gaze boring into his skin. He opened his eyes and watched her standing beside his bed, her eyes filled with concern. He felt his muscles tense up, but he tried to keep his expression neutral.

He wanted to ask her why she was here, but he couldn't muster the energy to say anything. He had been ignoring her for days, but now he felt a strange urge to talk to her. He looked at her, taking in the sight of her yet again. She wore yet another set of clothes, and he wondered how she managed to look tidy all the time.

"What's going on? What happened? Who am I?" he finally asked.

She was startled by his sudden outburst and looked away, biting her lip. Her hand reached for his, but he pulled away.

"Your memory was lost, sweetheart. You had an accident. You still don't remember anything, Dennis?" she said softly.

He felt a sense of panic growing inside him as she called him by that name again. Dennis. He didn't know who that was, and he hated when she used it. The nurses called him Mister Millord, and that felt more familiar, but not entirely right.

That's who he must be then, Dennis Millord. Both names seemed completely foreign and meaningless.

He shook his head, feeling the urge to scream. He didn't know who he was, and the idea terrified him. He tried to sit up, but his body wouldn't cooperate. She stepped forward to help, but he pushed her away. He didn't want her touching him, even though he didn't know why.

He watched as she took a step back, her eyes filling with tears. He closed his eyes, trying to make sense of everything. He didn't know who he was, but he knew he didn't like the person he was becoming. He opened his eyes and saw she was still standing there, watching him. He wanted her to go away, but he didn't know how to say it.

He looked at her, trying to make sense of the emotions running through him. He felt uncomfortable with her detached attitude, and he wished she would do something, anything, to make him feel better. But he didn't know what that something was. He wanted to reach out to her, but he didn't know how.

He despised her face and saw how her sadness and despair faded into a gasp as he felt his vision turn black, and he began to fall back onto the bed.

That was the only thing he can remember when he woke up again. As he opened his eyes, he was struck with the emptiness of the room. He looked around, but there was no one there. He couldn't recall anything before or after his waking up in the hospital. The accident that everyone spoke of was a complete mystery to him.

He tried to push aside his confusion, focusing instead on his physical state. As he regained his strength, he began to sit up and eat solid food. But despite his body's progress, his mind remained in a state of confusion and fear.

He felt a gnawing emptiness inside, as though a part of him was missing. He had no memories of his past, no sense of who he was or where he came from. All he had were these fleeting, fragmented dreams that left him feeling more disoriented than ever.

He lay back on his pillow, his mind swimming with questions. What had happened to him? Who was he? And most importantly, why did he feel so lost and alone?

He closed his eyes, hoping to find some solace in sleep. But even that was a source of confusion. Whenever he drifted off, he was plagued by strange and unsettling dreams. He couldn't quite remember the details, but they left him feeling even more disoriented and confused.

As he fell asleep again, his mind was filled with a jumble of images and emotions. He felt as though he were drowning in a sea of uncertainty, with no idea of how to find his way to safety. The fear and confusion were so overwhelming that he felt like he might never escape from them.

He suddenly felt a strange sensation of familiarity wash over him as he found himself amid a wood. The sun warmed his skin and a light breeze tousled his hair. He stood on a grassy knoll and scanned his surroundings. Trees, paths, and a small river with darting fishes —it was all familiar to him. He wondered if it was near his home in the past, but he couldn't quite remember.

He felt a sense of joy mixed with fear, realizing that he was alone. He scanned the surroundings again and noticed a figure staring at him from afar. As the figure approached, he realized it was a boy. The feeling of familiarity struck him again, and he felt the urge to run and play with the boy. But something held him back, an invisible force that he didn't understand.

He tried to reach out to the boy, but he couldn't move. He wanted to call out, but no words escaped his lips. The boy's face came into view, and he was sure he knew him, but he couldn't place him. He felt a mix of emotions —fear, joy, confusion, and familiarity.

Just as he tried to get closer to the boy, he was jolted back. He found himself locked in a room. He was running his hands along the walls, desperately searching for an escape.

He tried searching all the corners of the room but no matter how hard he searched, he couldn't find a door. He didn't know this place. He felt completely and utterly trapped and began to panic. 

The walls were cold to the touch and seemed to be closing in on him. He felt like he was suffocating as if the walls were slowly squeezing the air out of the room. He started to hyperventilate, his heart racing in his chest. He had to find a way out. 

He pounded on the walls, shouting for help, but no one came. He was alone, surrounded by nothing but darkness and despair. He felt a tear roll down his cheek as he sank to the floor, overwhelmed by the situation. He was lost and afraid, and he had no idea what to do.

He closed his eyes and tried to take a few deep breaths, but it seemed like no matter what he did, he was never going to find the way out. He felt like he was stuck in this never-ending suffering, and he was beginning to lose hope.

When he opened his eyes, he squinted against the morning light. He heaved a sigh of relief, thinking it was only a dream. But there was a feeling inside him that those weren't just dreams but memories. Memories that he couldn't explain. He sat on his hospital bed and turned to the window, gazing out over a vast expanse of rustling trees and wind.

He felt a strange stirring in his heart, something that he couldn't explain. It was the total lack of real memories that he found alarming. He began to consider the possibility that, with his condition, he might never remember who he was ever again.