One minute you're in the car, in the backseat with your adorable baby brother. Then you hear tires skid and screams, and boom. You're out. But the next moment, you wake up on the floor of a hospital room, surrounded by bodies of doctors. You hear a banging, constant yet always following its own rhythm like a metronome. You look and see a girl, no older than you, with short black hair and pale skin, banging her head against the door. She locks eyes with you. Her eyes are dead and there's dried blood coming from her mouth down to her hospital gown. You look down at your hands, covered in blood. There's a tiny cut on your left index finger, definitely a few days old. The girl goes back to banging her head against the wall. She looks no older than eight.