Void woke up to sunlight bleeding through the curtains like a wound that refused to clot. It painted the room in soft, golden smears - too gentle for how she felt. The bed beneath her felt all wrong. Too soft, like it was trying to comfort her for no good reason. The pillow was still warm, like it had cradled someone else before her and hadn't cooled down yet.
This wasn't her bed.
This wasn't her life.
She laid still, blinking at the ceiling. Listening. There was nothing. No cars. No sirens. Just the hum of static somewhere behind her eyes...