It was a day like every other. Nothing on Alessa's body hinted at previous visits at the hospital anymore. Scars had healed. Pale skin had regained a healthy pink hue. Tired smiles were replaced once again by warm grins and blushes.
One thing that had definitely changed and hadn't turned back into its original state, though, was the wave of depressing and terrifying nightmares, ever increasing like the tide eroding beaches, cliffs, everything. But again, despite the shaking, sobbing state in which most of them left the schoolgirl, she exhibited the most joyful part of herself. Nobody would have any idea of her subconscious fears of being weird, of not fitting in well enough, or fitting in too well, of abandonment, of death reigning at the hospital, of saviors she wouldn't even repay, of cruel aunts far away, of mysterious grandparents even more absent and invisible.
None of that would show. Alessa was a part-time Stepford Smiler, doing her best to conceal her weakness so that nobody would pity her.

Then, there was a phone call.
A panicked voice told her, in the middle of her homework, that she had to hurry to the hospital right friggin' now because her mother was there.
It was the voice of his father, and he sounded too agitated for it to be a benign incident.
Alessa's skin dropped several shades towards a nice white color again, and she rushed out of her apartment. She was fearing the worst. She was nonetheless expecting the most dramatic case, since the nightmares became regular (she was pretty sure she'd dreamed her parents were both dying at the hospital last week, and they dissolved into blood before she could give them the meds that would save them; there was an awful lot of bloody people in her nightmares). And because she was expecting as if it had been confirmed minutes ago by Johan, she couldn't imagine fate would have had mercy on her.

And still, it did. Maria was alive and conscious. Her husband was holding her hand very tightly, as if her life depended on it. It didn't. Alessa's teary eyes took notice of her mangled legs instead. Her left leg, they said, only suffered superficial injuries that would heal over time. The right one, however, was bent in a disturbing way. Indeed, there are many more broken bones, and the doctors had to admit that there was a chance it would never heal normally. Amputation was considered. Would she have ever thought she may end up with a prosthetic one day?
Alessa was sobbing, still in disbelief that she was allowed to keep her mother. Johan was repressing tears with much effort, in shock over the whole situation. Maria was weeping out of fear, or maybe out of pain, or maybe she was relieved to be still alive.
But what had happened, actually?
The girl turned around, following her father's awkward exposition. Maria was alive, and that was nice, considering there were many dead or dying people. There were many dying people because there was a series of accidents happening in a part of the city. There was a series of accidents because even more people had suddenly fallen unconscious.
She stared at the impressive number of sleeping adults, teenagers and children, her eyes wide in disbelief. "A car crashed into the Six Ten where... where your mother was working. Another cashier and a customer... were admitted here for the same kind of injuries as Maria. The driver didn't survive."
His words were shaky. The woman couldn't say a word; it was clear she was still in shock.
"My God, I hope it was not a biochemical attack, please, don't let it be an attack...", he repeated under his breath.

The brunette's dark eyes were still silently fixated on the rush of seemingly sleeping people. They were all in a coma. Most of them seemed uninjured. Even more people showed up with wounds. Every instant, she thought she was seeing familiar faces among the comatose ones. Wait, was it a teacher? No, it couldn't be. Oh s**t, was it just Tate? And was this one Selena or Ji-Yeon? But that patient immediately disappeared, pushed through a door by one doctor. Portia, Azzo, Yvette, Lily, prof Gordon? Every second, her brain registered a familiar face, but she didn't have the time nor the focus to check. She was shaking uncontrollably. She was too afraid to make sure which persons were friends, or classmates, or teachers.

She held her head in her hands and she cried violently, ignoring her mother's pitiful state and tears. How many of them were here? Would they ever wake up? Would they survive? Would she lose them again? Why was she once again part of the majority, why was she well and awake and her mother merely injured, when her friends had the appearance of death, though a peaceful one at that? What the hell was going on? Why couldn't she do anything to help anyone? Why was she feeling so lonely?

Her distress was showing at last.

This was like a nightmare come true.