Waking Up White Novels & Stories

Elara's POV The room is brightly lit when I wake up, my vision slowly coming into focus. As I regain consciousness, I notice two figures in white moving around. An annoying beeping sound steadily creeps into my ears, worsening my headache. I reach up to touch the back of my head and feel a bandage. What happened?

-EMILY- The sound of the beeping monitor next to me got my eyes rolling, the blurry image of the ceiling looking down on me. I took a sitting position, resting my back on the soft pillow behind me. The scent of antiseptics and the cream-colored walls gave a pretty first impression of where I was. A lady In a white uniform walked in. She didn’t speak, nor did she let out a smile when she saw me. I couldn’t remember how I got here or why I was here, but I was sure she knew the answers.

[The Silence of the Stone] The world didn’t end with a scream. It ended with a breath—his breath, hitched and shallow, ghosting against the hollow of my throat before the light took everything. I woke up in the white. It wasn’t the sterile white of a Macau lab or the blinding white of the spire’s overload. It was the soft, muffled white of a mountain winter. The snow was falling again, thick and indifferent, burying the charred remains of the obsidian needle beneath a blanket of cold mercy.

Maya I wake up before my alarm. Which is never a good sign. People who wake up before their alarms fall into two categories: 1. Extremely productive adults. 2. People whose anxiety beat the alarm clock to the punch. Unfortunately, I’m category two. I stare at the ceiling for a long moment, tangled in my blankets while the room sits in that strange gray space between night and morning. Quiet. Still. Normal. At least for about ten seconds. Then I remember. Dad.

*Winter* Waking up was never easy; it felt like struggling with the remnants of a strange dream, but today was different. The first things I noticed were the soft glow of moonlight pouring through the large window and the velvet night sky dotted with tiny stars. It was breathtaking and made the sterile environment around me feel unexpectedly warm, though I couldn't shake the lingering confusion drifting through my mind.

When the white light reached them and it seemed like it was going to erase them he put the pen on the ground and wrote one word with ink that shone like gold. WAKE.

The fiery ball of light rising from the horizon, colored the sky in shades of orange and yellow. The piercing sound of the alarm clock brought Susanna back from the dead of sleep. She started to wriggle and stretch within her little cosy, warm, haven that is she calls her bed. As parts of her body were gradually turning on, she realised today was the day she starts her new job. She wakes up with a start and lifts reluctantly lifts her head off the pillow, squinting against the gossamer light flirting through the window.

With a white wig on. Others had their disguises on. Each one of us looked amazing. Amazingly old. We were waiting for Blake to wake up. It was 2 o'clock in the afternoon. And Blake hadn't woken up yet. Slowly he opens his eyes. He shuts them close again, due to the lights. Then opens them and sees us. "Um...who are you all?" He asks. And Justin takes a dramatic step forward and begins.

Chapter Fifteen 17th January, 2009. New York City, USA. Carl Whitefield woke up at ten minutes past 7am, he got out of bed and took off his pajamas, tied a towel around his waist, and went into the bathroom to take his bath. He was scheduled to meet with the chairman of the company he just got a job in by 9, he had to get dressed and get on the road as early as possible, to avoid being held up by traffic.

Maxton woke up in a flawlessly whitewashed cottage. The light was blinding at first, pure, unbroken white. Curtains, satins, linens, even the floor shimmered in ivory hues, so clean and surreal that it felt like he had woken inside a dream. Beyond the open window, he could hear the low sigh of the sea, waves folding endlessly upon themselves, filling the air with salt and calm. Everything smelled of summer, warmth, freedom, innocence. Though nothing about this moment was innocent.