Chapter 1 -- The girl with brown hair

She woke up with the cold weight of liquid in her throat.
Something clamped her wrists, ankles and neck to a cold metal surface. She felt the gag reflex constrict her throat. She squinted through the blurry liquid. It was dark on all sides, apart from a dull light above her, streaming through a membrane just centimetres above her nose. Liquid burned her lungs. She couldn’t move, but she squirmed, craving the air so close to her face.
Without warning, the metal binding her ankles, wrists and neck slid away. The girl launched herself through the membrane and took in lungful after lungful of cold, wet air. She broke into a coughing fit as her lungs heaved and convulsed to empty themselves of liquid. She tried to sit up, but metal bars rose over her head. She was sitting in a capsule with a cage over the top, allowing nothing but her face through the membrane. The only light came from a dull bulb at one end of the capsule, outside the bars. Her head spun. Receding blackness danced at the edges of her vision. She squinted past the iron bars and tried to see something in the gloom.
“Hey! Help!”
The girl grabbed the bars surrounding her cage and shook them, hoping they’d rattle, but they made no sound.
“Someone help! Help me!”
Her vision swam for the second time. It was like being in the liquid again. One by one, other lights like the one at her capsule winked on around her. Seven other heads erupted out of membranes like hers. She screamed and pounded the sides of the capsule.
“Let me out!”
The other people in tanks started screaming and hammering the sides of their capsules.
“Someone!”
“Help! We’re stuck!”
“Help!”
“Is anyone there?!”
The cold air bit at her wet skin. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her vision was becoming worse. She knew she shouldn’t be this weak. She barely made any noise banging her frail fists on the walls of her tank. Her throat was hoarse; maybe her heartbeat was choking her.
She kept screaming, despite her sore throat stopping her from making herself heard. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest, driving blood all over her body, too strong, making her feel sick. The cries of the others became softer and more distant, though she couldn’t tell if it was because their voices were failing them too, or if it was because her ears were in the same feeble state as the rest of her. Maybe it was her heartbeat, the too-strong heartbeat, thumping blood around her body, too strong, far too strong, that consumed all her hearing. Every time her heart beat, she felt as if her entire being throbbed. Her world was her heartbeat. Her stomach churned and complained. Her eyes lost function completely, thumping blood vessels blocking out her vision. She lost all feeling in her limbs and crumpled into the dark liquid.

Light. There was light glowing behind her eyelids. Blood was pounding in her head. A ringing in her ears. The smell of antiseptic crept into her nose. Her throat and trachea burned from the grey liquid she had woken up in.
The girl squinted at the bright world around her. Her eyes struggled to bring her surroundings into focus. Out of the pale blur she made out a white ceiling and shiny, white tiles covering the walls and floor. She blinked, trying to get her eyes into focus. The only furniture in the room was the bed she lay in. Crisp white sheets lay on a stiff but soft mattress. An IV drip hung on a frame attached to the bed, and leaked into a needle in her arm. Next to her bed, on a wire frame, was a small circular mirror. She grabbed it and looked at the face staring back at her.
The wide, staring eyes were dull bluey-green, with dark smudges in the corner. Pale, hollow cheeks lay either side of a narrow nose and a mouth, with lips drawn tightly together. Brown, messy hair sprouted from her scalp in tufts, haphazardly tumbling down her back. It looked like she’d never seen a shower in her life. It was her face, and yet it was the face of an animal. She tentatively ran her hand over her sunken cheeks. The girl in the glass copied her exactly. That face was hers. Was that what she looked like?
She heard the sound of a door opening. She jerked her head in the direction of the noise, and immediately wished she hadn’t. Shooting pains shot up her neck and bloomed across her skull. She winced and felt her eyes water a little. She squinted through the bright light at the door. A woman with dark hair and olive skin stood at the other end of the room, her coat and white carry-case matching the glaring ivory of the walls. She observed the girl with cool regard, as if contemplating what kind of species she was.
“Who are you?” the girl tried to say, but her throat was still hoarse, and she convulsed into a coughing fit before she finished her sentence.
“I would advise you not to talk for the first few days.” The woman said calmly. The girl ignored her advice.
“What?” she managed hoarsely.
“I said it would be better not to talk for the first few days.”
“Of what?”
“Do you have any pain anywhere? Just nod or shake.”
She shook her head, fully aware the woman hadn’t answered her question.
“Do you have any numbness or pins and needles anywhere?”
She shook her head.
“Can you move your fingers and toes?”
She wiggled them, and nodded. The woman moved closer. She shrank away from her.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to take your blood pressure.”
Carefully watching her every move, the girl extended her arm and allowed the woman to wrap the sphygmomanometer around her arm and take her blood pressure.
“And it is… 123 over 82, but that’s to be expected since you’re not exactly having a restful day.”
She put the machine away in her carry-case and pulled out an empty syringe. The girl stiffened.
“I’m just going to take some blood.”
“No you’re not.”
“I’m afraid I have to.”
“Don’t touch me.”

 “I’m sorry, I have to. I won’t do anything else.”
“No. No, don’t touch me.” The girl shook her head violently.
“I won’t hurt you. I just need to take some blood.”

The girl studied her. She didn’t move. Reluctantly, the girl extended her arm and allowed her to take some blood.
“Okay, thank you, I just need one more thing.”
“No. Go away.”
“Can I at least tell you what it is first?”
“Fine.”
“You’ve been through some trauma in the last few hours.” She reached into her carry-case and pulled out a bottle of pills and a bottle of water. The girl recoiled immediately.
“It’s just diazepam. It’ll help you sleep.”
She didn’t see how the amount of diazepam in the tablet could do any harm, and the woman didn’t look like she was going to take no for an answer, so she reluctantly accepted the pill and gulped down water. She soon felt drowsy. She heard the woman pack up her things, but she didn’t stay awake long enough to see her leave.