Stella POV
I stirred slightly from my sleep when the sharp, awful smell of disinfectant hit my nose, and my stomach curled instinctively.
I had always disliked disinfectant, and so I asked the servants at home to take care not to use it in places I frequent.
How could they still bring it into my bedroom? I thought.
My eyelids fluttered, stubbornly yet it was weak. But the smell and the buzz in my ear was pressing me hard.
When I finally forced them open, the light sliced through me like a blade.
I gasped and instinctively shut them again.
My voice sounded small and broken, that I immediately regretted opening my mouth.
My chest tightened, breath stuttered as though my lungs had forgotten the rhythm they've known all my life.
I felt myself on the verge of suffocation.
I schooled myself to take it slow.
Then, my eyes slowly opened, and the first thing that came into my line of sight was the white canvas of the ceiling.
