It was quiet, to begin with. Poppy remembered feeling like she was floating, drifting away in a sea of sleep, silence and powerful sedatives. Then sounds, and smells began to build up around her, and light began to press against her eyelids, encouraging her to open them. She could feel something cold and hard underneath her. Did she fall asleep in the greenhouse again? This was becoming a far too frequent occurrence.
It was then she became dimly aware that this was not her greenhouse, that the scents she was smelling was not that of fertilizer and soil, but disinfectant and people. Did people have a smell? They must have – she did recognise it after all. Groggily, she opened her eyes, peering at the person to the left of her. She didn’t recognise them. They too, were sleeping just like she had been but… What if they weren’t? What if they were…? The thought made her heart race a thousand times faster. She had to check… Poppy reached out, brushing her fingers across their cheek. Still warm, still alive, thank god. With that confirmed, Poppy shifted and rolled onto her back, staring up into harsh, artificial lighting. Where the hell was she?
Slowly, she sat up. An ache was throbbing in the back of her skull, making her want to close her eyes and lie back down again. But, not before she noticed a small handful of others – three boys, and three girls – were sitting up, looking around the room. She ran her fingers through her curls, which had already knotted. How long had she been sleeping? Poppy shook that thought from her head. First, and foremost, she had to know where she was, what was happening and where the closes garden was. She had to prioritize after all! Poppy reached for her hat on the floor beside her, brushing it off and sticking it back onto her head. It felt foreign not to wear it.
Another sweeping glance around the room lead her to notice a number of paintings adoring the walls, most of which were depictions of beautiful women, and powerful men. She rolled her eyes. Plants were a much classier subject to paint!
The people around the room seemed to be distracted, investigating the room and each other. They too, were unknown to her. Their faces were unfamiliar, but all were around her age. Maybe they were here for the same reason she was? She wanted to ask, but found the words catching in her throat. ‘Who are you? Why are we here?’ Poppy was dying to know the answer, but the words didn’t seem to form. It was funny, really, to be feeling so shy in a room full of sleeping people.
She turned her attention, briefly counting the remaining bodies on the floor, the ones who had not woken yet. One, two, three… She drank them in, the curves of their bodies, the rise and fall of their chests. Thirteen people were still asleep, and seven (including herself) were awake.
She cleared her throat shyly. “A-Ah… Hello there…!”A nervous smile graced her lips, to match the nervous greeting. “Do… you know where we are?”
