I saw a floating head in the sky, right above my head. It was beautiful and so full of life. I had this overwhelming urge to jump up and grab it. To run around in circles. And cry.

I felt tears starting to pool at the bottom of my eyes again. This couldn't be happening. The world around me didn't seem like mine anymore. Everything was so surreal. I didn't think that things could get any worse. But apparently, they could. And for some reason, the most horrible thing was the fact that there was no one else here with me. I felt alone.

The floating head moved out of view, moving away from me but still hovering over me as I stood there staring at nothing in particular. It wasn't until I heard someone talking behind me that I turned around to face them. A man and a woman were standing there, staring at me expectantly.

"What do you want?" I said.

I could tell by their expressions that these two were looking for something.

"We're lost. We don't know where we are." The woman stepped forward towards me and spoke. "Can you help us?"

A few tears spilled onto the floor.

"I can't. I just can't." My voice cracked. There was nothing else left for me to say. I started running. As fast as I could. Running away from them. Away from everything. Just... away. They were chasing after me. And suddenly my feet got caught on something and I went crashing down to the ground.

I landed hard, scraping my knees along the way. My hands reached out to touch the ground to try and stop myself but the moment I did, it changed. One hand was touching cool, smooth wood instead of rough, uneven stones. Then I remembered what had happened to me before. What had happened to my legs.

I looked down at my feet and I found that my shoes were gone and so was my shirt. Where am I? I asked myself. I stood back up and took another look around me. I could see buildings around me now, and I recognized several landmarks in them. I realized that I must have fallen into New York City. I was in Manhattan.

My heart started beating faster because this place was familiar. It was the place where I lived now. I ran through the streets of Manhattan as fast as I could, trying not to look behind me or else they'd catch me. But I kept turning around. And looking. And looking...

They weren't following me anymore, I knew that much. I finally stopped when I saw that I was walking through an alleyway. I slowed down and sat against one of the buildings, resting my forehead on my knees. I tried to steady my breathing, hoping that I wouldn't hyperventilate. When my breathing returned to normal, I pulled off my gloves. It was time to deal with all the scars that littered my arms, legs, chest... everywhere.

I began to take care of each scar carefully, using whatever cloth I could find. I had a bag with me that I used as a makeshift bandage, which would help cover the worst scars. I worked for hours on end, not stopping when night fell completely. Finally, I felt strong enough to walk without collapsing, so I headed home. I made sure to stay close to the shadows, trying not to draw attention to myself. Luckily for me, it seemed that the city was pretty empty since it was nighttime, otherwise, someone might have seen me. Or maybe they would recognize me. Either way, it probably wouldn't matter anyway, I thought.

"You fucking cocksucker!" Someone screamed as I turned the corner. I froze in my tracks. That voice sounded vaguely familiar.

Someone grabbed my arm and yanked me backwards. Two men surrounded me. Both were wearing black suits. pink glasses, and rabbit ears. I glanced quickly between their faces and then noticed that one of the men's glasses had been knocked askew and his nose was bleeding. He had a strange expression on his face. His eyes were wide open. He was frozen. He wasn't breathing. His body was limp. Dead.

One of the other men shoved me aside, sending me sprawling onto the ground. I winced at the sharp pain in my elbow and looked up to see who had tackled me. The man lying on the ground was smiling broadly and laughing loudly. I felt sick.

Suddenly someone grabbed my throat and dragged me backwards. The breath was squeezed out of me as he slammed me against a wall.

I could feel his hot breath against my neck. I could hear his heavy panting and could smell alcohol on him. I struggled in his grip and gasped for air, fighting for breath.

Finally, he let go of my neck and punched me in the jaw. Pain exploded across my face. Stars burst in front of my eyes and stars appeared in my vision. The Morningstars themselves...

Everything went black.

When I opened my eyes I was in a hospital room. All of my cuts and bruises had been patched up. A nurse was checking my IVs. She smiled kindly at me when she saw that my eyes were open.

"How are you feeling?" She asked as she adjusted the bed rails.

"Tired." My voice came out raspy. I cleared my throat. "Who are you?"

"Your name is *%$#@, isn't it?" She looked at a clipboard. "Well, I'm Doctor McCoy. You've had quite a rough day, haven't you?"

I frowned. "Yeah. Kinda."

She patted my shoulder reassuringly and walked over to one of the cabinets.

"Here," she said and placed a small brown bottle on the tray table beside my bed. "Take one of these every five hours for twenty minutes. After you finish, you should get a good night's sleep." She gave me a smile. "Try not to worry too much about this, okay? Now, if there are any more questions, please let me know."

She turned around and left, closing the door softly behind her.

There was a knock at the door. I turned toward it, frowning slightly. Who could possibly be knocking?

A young woman entered. Her blond hair was tied back in a low ponytail, falling just past her shoulders. Her brown eyes scanned the room for a moment before landing on me.

"Hi." Her words were hesitant, almost cautious.

"Uh..." I blinked. How many people come into hospitals in their underwear in the middle of the night?

Her cheeks flushed red and she looked away. "Sorry." She walked closer, her heels clicking softly against the linoleum floor. I watched her approach, wondering how she would react once she got closer.

"You're awake." She said softly as she put a hand on the bed railing. I nodded.

"How long was I unconscious?"

"Three days." She sighed softly. "Are you alright?" She looked concerned.

"Fine." I lied. "Just really tired."

"Okay." She nodded and sat down on the stool next to me. She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, pulling it down a bit. "Um... I wanted to talk to you about your accident..." She trailed off for a second and I could tell that she was debating whether to speak up. After a while though, she decided to continue. "So, um... about what happened... Are you alright now? Because if not..."

"Look," I interrupted, raising my voice. "It wasn't your fault. Please believe me. It wasn't anyone's fault but your attacker's."

Her face grew paler. She looked down at her lap and clenched her fists. I thought she was going to say something but she just turned and left without saying anything else.

I laid there for a couple of seconds longer thinking about what she had told me. If she hadn't told me anything, then who had? And why? What had they done with my clothes and everything that I had? Was it safe to assume that whoever they were, they still intended to hurt me?

The next morning I woke up early and went straight to the bathroom. I washed and brushed my teeth and stared at my reflection in the mirror. No scars. Only a few cuts and scrapes. I wondered how much damage I had received during the incident. Were those scratches caused by the attackers? I didn't remember any pain coming from it. Maybe... they hit my head when I fell? It wasn't the strangest thing I'd ever experienced.

I stepped out of the bathroom again and checked the clock. Seven o'clock already. I grabbed a glass of water and a banana from a bowl sitting on the table. I ate the banana, drank the rest of the glass of water, and put it in the dishwasher. Before leaving the kitchen, I grabbed the first thing I saw on the counter and slipped it into the pocket of my jeans. I headed out the front door of the apartment building and began walking down the street toward the hospital. There was only one reason that I would be heading for there: Dr. McCoy.

As soon as I reached the hospital entrance, I noticed a bunch of police cars parked nearby. There was also a news truck. And the media had arrived. I couldn't wait any longer. So, I pushed myself forward as quickly as I could without running.

"Hey, cocksucker!" Someone yelled at me suddenly as I passed a news van. I turned to face him angrily. He stood next to the van with two police officers.

"What do you want?" I spat.

He grinned maliciously. "I heard you're gonna die today." Then he pointed behind me. "Looks like I'm right!"

I started turning around, intending to snap at them to shut up. They didn't listen. Instead, one of them ran up to me and kicked me hard in the leg, making me double over. I cried out in pain as a second kick landed somewhere near my stomach. As the pain became unbearable, another officer approached me.

Before I knew it, a third boot connected with my stomach, making me scream in excruciating pain. Tears pricked my eyes as I crumpled to the ground.

"This is what happens to traitors like you." A fourth foot connected with my abdomen. This time I cried out. "Or should we say, what happens to people who refuse to be punished?" A fifth blow sent my breath rushing out of my lungs. As I curled up into a ball in an attempt to protect myself, I heard footsteps approaching quickly. I tried to stand up and look at where the feet were coming from but all I managed to do was fall to the ground again. Suddenly, I felt hands grab both of my wrists, pinning them above my head. Looking down, my heart started racing as I recognized the uniform that the police officers wore. One of them raised his gun directly underneath my chin.

"You have exactly four and a half seconds." He stated calmly. "If you don't answer my question, I will shoot."

I stared into his icy blue eyes, trying to think of something to say.

I opened my mouth several times and eventually blurted out the first thing that came to mind, the question that had been nagging at the back of my mind.

"...Why did you attack me?"

The man lowered his gun for just a second as he studied my face closely. He tilted his head, narrowed his eyes, and shook his head slowly.

"You're not going to answer my question." He said flatly.

"No," I replied firmly.

He raised his gun again and aimed it at my forehead. I closed my eyes tightly.

"Two seconds."

I waited for the gunshot. But nothing happened. I opened my eyes slowly, squinting in the bright sunlight that poured through the windows. The gun was still pointing straight at me. The officer standing over me held it with both hands. His knuckles were white and his fingers were trembling violently.

He took a deep breath. When he spoke again his voice was shaky, almost frightened.

"One second."

My chest heaved rapidly. Why am I so scared?

Suddenly, the gun was yanked out of his grasp and thrown aside. I opened my eyes and looked up to see Doctor McCoy.

It was that floating head... the same floating head that I saw back then...

the same floating head which was staring at us. Its expression changed from a blank look to a twisted smirk. It laughed loudly.

I screamed.

Then it disappeared along the world around me.

I awoke with a gasp.

My breathing was rapid, and I felt dizzy all of a sudden. I glanced around at the dark surroundings and found myself in the infirmary. My head throbbed.

Doctor McCoy was sitting at one end of the infirmary examining some charts on the wall. He seemed to notice that I had woken up because he immediately stopped what he was doing and walked over to my side of the bed.

"You've been asleep for twelve hours." He informed me quietly. "Your fever has subsided significantly since you've been here."

"Oh." That was all I could manage to say in response.

After another moment of silence, the doctor cleared his throat.

"Do you know what year it is?"

"...Yes." I swallowed. "September 2nd, 2029."

"Is that correct?"

"Yes."

He paused for a few moments, then said, "That means..." he hesitated. "I assume that you are aware of the circumstances surrounding your injury."

"Yes." My head hurt too much to try and explain myself to him.

He looked at me thoughtfully. "Can you tell me what occurred?" I looked down at the sheets lying loosely across my legs and shook my head.

"No," I answered softly.

He frowned, looking slightly frustrated. "Alright." He said after a few more seconds. "If you can recall anything before waking up in the hospital, please let me know." I stayed silent, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Thank you for answering my questions." He said finally.

I nodded once and he got up from my bedside and left the room. As soon as the door slammed closed, my head started pounding again and I winced slightly. I placed my hands against my temples and closed my eyes in hopes of reducing the pain that I was feeling.

When I reopened my eyes, he was staring right in front of me.

That beautiful floating head.

THe End