Rage against waking

Elise struggles against waking. In this muddled twilit nowhere, there is no pain, only a sense that it is near.
She pushes the world away. It pushes back harder.
She wakes.
The room makes her think about the hospitals she scavenged with her father, except it is white- spotless. It’s the cleanest thing she’s ever seen.
She cannot move. Muzzily she realises that she can hardly feel her body either.
She hears a door open. A hypodermic hovers above her.
“Something for your pain,” says a voice. A man’s voice.
The rage fills her, boiling, toxic.
“Should- have- killed me.”