God, I can still smell it.

That sickening, sterile smell that seems to haunt every hospital. It's on the gowns, the beds, even the very walls reek of it.

I've been to many hospitals in my thirty-two years, and they all hold bad memories for me. Family members dying, sudden fights among relatives over a loved ones care. Hell, there was even a shooting at one once. A man who felt the nurses weren't helping his elderly mother fast enough. Come to think of it, I'm not sure why I was in this hated building in the first place. I remember waking, and I felt cold. I called out, but no reply came. Looking around in the dim light, I could make out something slick on the floor, with dark shapes scattered about. I called out again, and this time I noticed how scratchy my voice sounds. Strange, I don't recall having a raw throat. Curious, and admittedly tired of the cold air, I got up and slowly made my way out the thick steel doors. The floor was streaked with more of that slick stuff, but there were less of the odd shapes. A door nearby had a bright green sign saying 'EXIT', and sunlight streamed weakly through the clouded glass planes.

'Fresh air.'

This thought overwhelmed me and I stumbled to the door. Opening it took a few tries, my arms didn't want to work. Normally this would have upset me but I didn't care. I just needed to get out! I needed fresh air, now!

I'm outside, but that smell still won't leave me. I don't know why. It should be gone.

After all, I left the morgue over an hour ago.