My head felt like a ball of paste had been stuffed into it, feeling heavy and swollen.
I slowly opened my eyes, and what I saw was a dilapidated blue-gray tent roof with a hole in it. The sunlight that leaked through happened to shine on my face, stinging my eyes.
My whole body hurts.
I struggled to sit up and looked down to see that I was wearing a plain shirt that had been washed white and the cuffs were frayed. It was surrounded by mottled walls, and the table with missing legs was padded with bricks. There was half a bowl of cold porridge on the table.
Where the hell is this?
My last memory is working overtime until three in the morning, lying on the bed in the rental house, and then I didn't know anything.
"Mother, are you awake?"
