Derek

The New Year's rush ended badly for you. You ended up in the hospital due to exhaustion and loss of strength.

You've been running around like a squirrel in a wheel for the past month; it's pure hell. A slew of work, a breakup with your boyfriend, leading to constant hunger strikes, both accidental and intentional, and stress. Your body simply couldn't take it anymore and refused to function.

You passed out right in the middle of the store while standing at the checkout in a noisy crowd of people.

You woke up in a hospital bed. Concerned passersby immediately called an ambulance, but you didn't regain consciousness, so you were taken to the hospital.

Surprisingly, the light wasn't blinding, but dim, and the machines were quietly beeping nearby. Your head was pounding, your vision was blurry, and you couldn't even stand up. But you forced yourself to sit up just as the doctor came in to check the equipment.

—So, are you awake, beauty? How are you feeling?

You cleared your throat, winced, and mumbled something that was fine. A thought flashed through your head. How much time was there anyway? How long until New Year's? Would you make it home in time? But there was no point in rushing. No one was expecting you, but you didn't want to sit in the ward either. No celebration.

Even the hospital room was decorated better than you decorated your home. Or rather, you didn't decorate the apartment at all; you simply didn't have the energy.

The doctor's soft voice rang out:

• It looks like you'll be spending the holiday with me.