Fifteen years after the incident and I’m still here in the hospital tending to the old people who just won’t quit. Things were supposed to be different after the revolution. They promised change and yet everything has remained as it has been since I can remember.

I stripped the soiled sheets of room 216 and laid out new ones just as Mrs. Myers was finishing her walk around the hospital floor.

“Good afternoon Mrs. Myers. How are we feeling today?” I cracked open a smile. She only mumbled something under her breath and walked over to the fresh linen. If only she had a room mate. Maybe she’d lighten up a bit. The bed next to her had been empty for weeks. A good sign I supposed when considering the fact that no one has become sick enough to occupy it.

I backed out through the doorway giving my farewells. Knowing now that I should have watched where I was going because the next thing I remember, I was on the floor and a doctor was telling me something about a concussion and a sprained wrist.

As luck would have it, I ended up being the ‘sick enough’ person to occupy the bed beside Mrs. Myers. Fantastic. May as well make the most of it.

“It’s just you and me Mrs. Myers. Feel like swapping stories” I looked over to her side of the room to find her only half lucid. “Sleeping aids,huh.” I guess she won’t be telling any stories tonight.

“The revolution failed,” she managed to say.

My gaze shot to hers immediately to find her eyes staring straight into mine. “WHAT?” My brain told me it was just the ramblings of a delirious old woman, but a part of me felt like there was more to know. “Mrs. M—“

“They faked the whole thing. They have us right where they want us.” She lowered her head and dosed right off.

It was a fake? Was she telling the truth? Or should I just shrug it off?