The darkness was a beast, resting on her chest, waiting. The creature was going to swallow her, without a doubt. It was getting harder to breathe, as the beast was crushing her ribs. Ava didn't want to open her eyes, afraid of what her eyes would let her see. It was cold, so cold, and she shivered until her bones hurt.

In the middle of all the emotions, all the feelings, she knew exactly what was going on.

This was a trip gone wrong.

Ava had heard wild stories about it, even seen it happen once or twice. She remembered going to a party. It was just a regular Saturday night. For Ava, it was a good night; she was having fun with friends, dancing the night away. That was until she went to the bathroom and encountered a girl who couldn't stop crying. One of the girl's friends was trying to calm her down, letting the girl sip some water. Ava was relieved to see it work, and the girl relax a little bit. Then, all of a sudden, the girl started to scream bloody murder, throwing herself at the walls, breaking the bathroom mirror in her thrashing.

Ava couldn't remember how long it took, but in the end, the girl collapsed on the ground. Someone, probably one of her friends, took care of her, put a pillow under her head, so she wouldn't hurt herself any more than she already did. There was nothing they could do, only keep an eye on her to see if things weren't getting worse.

Something they didn't want to think about because no one knew what to do if things would go worse. Possessing drugs was illegal, and they would face severe punishment if they were caught carrying it. The club would have to close. If they brought the girl to a hospital, it would make things difficult for them all.

Ava was glad she never experienced such a trip herself. That was until now.

She wondered what other people would see if they looked at her now. Would she be a mess? Or would she be one of the silent ones, just lying on the ground in a delirium?

There was the sound of a clock, slowly ticking the seconds away, just under the screeching breath of the darkness. There hadn't been a clock when she fell; she was pretty sure of that.

Ava was sure she had walked out of the club on to the street, but it didn't feel like she was on the road. It was the middle of the winter, but she wasn't cold. The smell of this place was strange. It was familiar, but Ava didn't know where she smelled this scent before. It smelled like something crisp and clean, not something you expected to smell on the street, wet from winter's rain.

There was a light, coaxing her to open her eyes. Her throat felt like parchment; she could kill for a sip of water.

Finally, she found the courage to stare between small slits of her eyes, straight into the world. The monster had disappeared as soon as she opened her eyes, and she could breathe again.

The fluorescent light was painful to her eyes, and she had to blink several times to blink the dark away. Slowly she rose from her position on the floor to look around. She knew where she was.

The plastic chairs, the reception, the piles of old magazines; this was a waiting room of a hospital.

Now she could place the scent as well. It was the typical smell of a hospital, the smell of disinfectant, of linoleum, of crisp uniforms.

Still, there was something strange about the place. And then it dawns on her. The coughing, the rustling of papers, and magazines, the whispered conversations of doctors and nurses, the wheels of hospital beds and wheelchairs, pushed around; the natural sounds of a waiting room are missing. There was only the deafening sound of silence.

She looked around, searching for someone, anyone, Patrick, but there was no one. She rubbed her eyes, trying to get rid of the effects the drugs. This must be the drugs, right? But the waiting room was still there, quiet and empty.

How did she get here? Did Patrick bring her here or did he call an ambulance? She couldn't remember a thing after she lost her conscience on the sidewalk outside the nightclub.

"Hello?"

Her voice echoed through the room. No one answered. She walked to the reception to look for a sign someone was here. Maybe the nurses were busy with other things, helping other patients, preparing injections, and medication. Or perhaps they forgot about her, didn't see her while she lay on the floor.

"Someone there?" she hollered this time, her heart beating in her throat.

Still, no one answered. Nothing moved, nothing made a sound, except the clock.

In the corner of her eyes, she saw something move. It was a shadow of someone or something. It had moved too fast for her to see what it was.

It convinced her that there must be someone out there. Never had she seen a hospital so quiet. The silence was unnatural. She decided to go after whatever was moving and walked into one of the hallways.

Even here, everything seemed to be abandoned. Something was not right. Ava wondered if this was still a trip. What if something happened while she was unconscious?

She opened doors, to rooms, to storages, but no one was there, no patients, no nurses, no doctors. Sometimes she thought she heard something; a silent whisper, a squeak of a door, or a cry of someone in pain, but it was always in the far distance.

The feeling that someone was following her crept up on her. Not that she heard any footsteps, not that she saw anything; it was just a feeling. Faster and faster, she walked through the hallways, hoping she would find someone, anyone.

She heard muffled sounds behind the doors, but after opening them, she found the rooms always empty.

Until she came across the door, it stood out from the rest. It was as if there was a spotlight aimed at it. The door was slightly ajar, and curiously Ava opened it and stepped inside the room.

There were three people in the room. They were all clad in green scrubs and stood around the only bed. Monitors were beeping frantically.

Then she noticed the fourth patient who lay in the bed, unconscious and unaware of all the fuss the others made.

Ava was unsure of what to do now. The doctor and the nurses were treating the patient in crisis, and she didn't want to disturb them. On the other hand, these were the first people she saw since she woke up.

"Hello," Ava said.

"Where is that crash cart?" one of the people said, pushing on the chest of the victim. Ava wanted to answer that she didn't know, but her answer was cut short by one of the other people.

"I called several minutes ago, they should be here by now," the nurse said while checking something on one of the machines.

Ava moved a little closer to the bed. They still hadn't noticed her. A continuous beep came from one of the machines. Ava saw a red, flat line on the monitor.

She didn't want to look at the patient, but it was as if something pulled her to the patient. Slowly she moved to the bed, to see who was in it. No one seemed to mind. She was here; no one had told her to go.

Ava saw that the patient was a woman, but her face was obscured. Closer and closer, she moved until she saw the front of the victim.

The hair of the patient pointed in every possible direction. Her skin was so pale that it looked almost blue. The woman wore the same earrings as Ava. She had even the same birthmark on her collarbone.

Ava felt chills down her spine. She looked closer and noticed that the patient looked like her, like a long lost twin.

"What's going on here?" she asked to no one in particular. Was this still the drugs?

Then she heard a soft cough. Another nurse stood in the doorway. Her clothes looked different than the ones who were already in the room. She was wearing one of those old fashioned outfits as you see in the movies, all in white, a small white cap with a red cross on it. Little black curls lay in rows around her face; an apologetic smile lay on her lips.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that," she said.