It was ten in the morning, and VVIP Ward One at Dixon Medical Center was dead quiet, the kind of silence that presses on your ears.
The only sound inside the ward was the steady beep of the EKG machine, which was slow and rhythmic.
Bethany's eyelids fluttered open.
Light stabbed her eyes, bright and sharp.
Her head throbbed, and each beat was like a hammer inside her skull.
She blinked once, twice, trying to make sense of the white walls and machines surrounding her.
Everything smelled clean—too clean—and she felt… heavy, like she'd been dragged from the bottom of a river.
She shifted, resting her back against the headboard, and whispered, her voice scratchy and unfamiliar even to her own ears.
"So… I'm in a ward... Looks like I didn't die."
Her voice caught in her throat as she said, "Why… why do I sound like this? What's happening?"
Dizziness hit her; she felt a wave of nausea and almost toppled over when the door suddenly opened.
A young blonde lady, holding a basin and a towel and dressed in a neat, plain, and worn-out outfit, stepped in but froze the moment she saw the young lady who was supposed to be unconscious sitting up and resting her head on the headboard of the hospital bed with her light brown hair cascading down to her waist.
The young blonde lady with her mouth wide open didn't realize when the basin she was holding slipped from her hands and fell on the floor, spilling water across the floor.
She blinked rapidly while rubbing her eyes vigorously to ascertain if she was hallucinating.
When she saw the young lady still sitting up and resting her head on the headboard of the hospital bed, she was sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her, and she wasn't hallucinating, so she ran toward the bed.
"Miss Rosita! Thank God, you're awake!" She cried.
Bethany recoiled.
Confused and alarmed, she mumbled, "Miss Rosita?" Then she snapped at the blonde lady and said, "Who are you calling that? I'm Bethany Larson. Did you… walk into the wrong ward?"
The blonde lady froze, her expression twisting as she said, "No… I don't think so... This is the right ward. I… I know you fell from a cliff... It was bad... But your name is Rosita... Rosita Anya Dixon… not Bethany Larson."
Bethany felt her fists tighten.
Her nails dug into her palms, and with her voice sharp, she said, "Listen, young lady, I am Bethany Larson, not Rosita Anya Dixon... Now leave, or I'll call security."
The blonde lady didn't move... She just stared at the light brown-haired young lady, and then, unexpectedly, tears streamed down her face.
Bethany blinked, and feeling bewildered, she said, "Hey! I told you to leave, not cry!"
Before the blonde lady could answer, the door opened again.
A female doctor with Gucci bangs walked in, crisp and composed, and behind her were two nurses.
The blonde woman ran to the female doctor immediately and said, "Doctor Carol! Please check Miss Rosita... Her head is bad—she doesn't know who she is; she doesn't even recognize me!"
Bethany coughed on purpose, drawing the doctor's attention.
She stared directly at the doctor and said, "With my status, am I supposed to recognize every stranger I encounter?"
Doctor Carol glanced at her nurses and scribbled something in a file, then she looked back at the light brown-haired young lady, and with her voice firm, she said, "This lady isn't a stranger, Miss Rosita... She's your manager."
Bethany laughed, and with her voice sharp, she said, "My manager? The lady I know as my manager will never dress like that, and she's not young—she's in her forties."
Doctor Carol sighed and said, "Your brain is giving you false information... It's called a delusion... It isn't reality."
Bethany's confusion morphed into anger.
Clenching her fist, she said, "What the hell are you saying?"
Doctor Carol stepped closer, and with her voice calm, she said, "I'm saying that you should have died from that fall, Miss Rosita... Being alive right now is a miracle because for the past six months that you were in a coma, we tried everything we could and administered every treatment that exists medically concerning your case to save you, but none worked.... In fact, two hours ago, we even declared you brain dead."
Bethany's stomach dropped.
Doctor Carol's voice softened as she sighed heavily and said, "I only came here to ask your manager to call your parents to come and sign the forms for organ donation, but when I walked in and saw you awake, I was shocked."
She paused for a while, then continued, saying, "Miss Rosita, You are alive, and that is what matters now... I know you are confused, and you probably think you are in a state of limbo or perhaps in paradise, but none of those are true... What is true is that you are back... ALIVE... You should be grateful to God."
Bethany sat quietly, letting the words sink.
Some minutes later, Bethany's voice cracked as she said, "Doctor… I thought I was going to die for sure... Anyway, can I please… have a mirror?"
Doctor Carol smiled gently at her and said, "Of course."
The blonde lady handed her a mirror.
Bethany lifted it, expecting to see her old face—the one she remembered so clearly.
Instead, a young, flawless face with light brown hair, smooth skin, bright brown eyes, and delicate features that was not hers stared back at her, which made her scream in horror while throwing the mirror away across the ward.
The blonde woman jumped back to avoid the mirror that was about to land on her feet, while the two nurses stiffened their backs.
Doctor Carol, on the other hand, stepped forward and approached the light brown-haired young lady with caution, and with her voice calm, she said, "Miss Rosita… What is it?"
Bethany grabbed Doctor Carol's hands; her grip was fierce, and with her hands trembling, she looked up at Doctor Carol and said, "Doctor, am I going crazy? This isn't my face! Whose face is this?"
Doctor Carol pulled out her phone and turned the screen toward Bethany.
"Are you talking about the face you see?" She asked.
Bethany nodded frantically while saying, "Yes! Who is that?"
Doctor Carol smiled at the light brown-haired young lady, and with her voice calm and laced with certainty, she said, "It's your face, Miss Rosita."
Bethany pointed to herself, and with disbelief written all over her face, she said, "Me?"
Doctor Carol, the two nurses, and the blonde woman all nodded.
"No… it can't be." Bethany whispered while shaking her head in denial.
Locking her gaze on Doctor Carol, she said, "What did you guys do to my face? What kind of heaven-defying cosmetic surgery did you do on my face? Was my face badly damaged? Is that the reason why you guys changed my face to this? I can't recognize myself any longer... Why do I look like a girl in her twenties instead of a woman in her fifties?"
Doctor Carol looked at her nurses, then she scratched her non-itchy hair and said, "We need to do an MRI on her.... I think something is wrong with her brain."
Bethany suddenly leaped from the bed.
With her hands grabbing at Doctor Carol's collar, she said, "Why did you change my face into this? Who gave you the permission?! Who the hell signed the consent form?! Was it Loid? Or is it that bastard, Henry?!"
The blonde woman gasped while the two nurses, feeling alarmed, rushed towards Doctor Carol and the light brown-haired young lady only to be stopped by Doctor Carol, who raised her hands, signaling them to stay calm.
Doctor Carol turned to the light brown-haired young lady, and with her voice steady, she said, "I see you remember your husband... That's a start. But your face hasn't been changed... You've always looked like this... And you're not in your fifties—you're in your twenties."
The words hit Bethany like a lightning strike.
Her body shook violently, and her heart was beating so fast she felt she might explode.
"What's wrong with her?" The blonde lady asked, panicked.
Doctor Carol shook her head and said, "I don't know... But we'll find out."
She carefully carried the light brown-haired young lady up and carried her back onto the bed.
Turning to the blonde lady, Doctor Carol said, "I need you to inform the Dixons that Miss Rosita Dixon regained consciousness."
"Copy that, Doc." The blonde lady replied, already dialing a number on her phone.
Doctor Carol adjusted the machines, then prepared a syringe and injected the sedative carefully into the vein of the body of the light brown-haired young lady.
Slowly, Bethany's vision blurred.
As her consciousness faded slowly, Bethany pieced every puzzle together and became certain that she has been given a new life... The life of Rosita Dixon, and this time, she inwardly vowed to live for herself and never die powerless again like she did in her past life.