Eleanor is in a plane crash and loses her memory. A fellow survivor helps her piece things together until the pieces start turning into something sinister. Why was she on that plane? Why doesn’t she remember anything before the crash? And why do people keep calling her Eleanor?
All I could see was white light; blinding white light, so bright it hurt.
I tried to move my head but it seemed too heavy or was restrained somehow. Either way, it took too much effort to move, so I stopped trying.
I felt a prick in my arm and flinched. All of a sudden an incredibly bright pink flash invaded my brain, but just as quickly it subsided somewhat to a bright white again. Fear took a brief hold but then, just as suddenly, the bright light diminished slightly replaced by a calm grey hue. I slowly opened my eyes, feeling a gewey substance fighting the release of my eyelids. I willed them to separate and tried to raise my eyebrows to help.
“Ahhh!” The bright light flashed again and the intense needle-like pain returned. I felt a hand on my shoulder and as if heat radiated from it, the color eventually changed to the calming grey again, and the pain seemed to vacate my mind.
The voice was quiet, male, and seemed to be connected to the hand on my shoulder since it shook me gently as he spoke.
This time when I tried opening my eyes, the gew released my lids and I began to see something other than grey. After a moment, I could make out a creamy ceiling. Suddenly a head came into my vision, leaning over her and filling my view.
“Eleanor, I’m Doctor Jefferson,” the man said, his gaze engaging me. I felt dozy. But I wanted to know what was happening, and this man seemed to be in a good position to answer. His voice was soft and gentle.
“Wh..who are you?” I said, surprised my voice was groggy and seemed to come from deep inside.
The man smiled again, looking over at someone out of my immediate view, but then he quickly peered down again.