As usual, found here, starter sentence in blue:

"She was always threatening to punch someone in the face, but this time she meant it." If she could only lift her hand, ball it up into a fist, and apply the punitive force necessary to convey just how enraged she was... but she couldn't.

She lay there, trapped in unspeakable torment, unable to give voice to the soul wracked in agony that lay inside her broken, useless body. How long had she been here, she wondered. She assumed she was in the hospital, from the medicinal, chemical smells and cold, clinical light that filtered through her bandages. She could see... oh, yes, she could see... but that was more curse than blessing at this point...

Her head was held upright, facing forward, in a locked position. Her limbs, which were outside of her limited line of vision, were immovable. But she could wiggle her fingers and toes... she was not paralyzed. Her physical pain was felt in temporary bursts, then eradicated by a soothing drip into her veins. No, her misery was not physical in nature. Her very mind and spirit were being excoriated...

How did she wind up in such a state? The last thing she remembered was ... the dentist. She was going to the dentist! It was icy... she must've had an accident. Why the karmic punishment? Did she kill someone? Is that why she was being punished by all the imps and demons of hell? Wait... she could hear them talking... no, her car skidded and smashed into the guardrail... no one else injured...

Why, Lord, why? Why then am I made to suffer so? Please, make it stop. I'll do anything, anything if you take away the terror, the horror...

She emitted a low moan through her wired-shut jaw. The people in the room snapped to attention. "She's awake!" one unknown voice triumphantly announced.

"I think she wants something," added a concerned, tender onlooker. Could this be my savior, I thought? The one who brings an end to my suffering?

"She's looking at the TV," noted a familiar voice. Joe! My husband! He was there, in the room? I was at once relieved and outraged, that he would have allowed this situation. Perhaps he was too dismayed at my condition to realize... "I think she wants us to turn it up," he concluded.

Of all the times for him to be clueless, unaware of my deepest held convictions. Joe, Joe, how could you do this to me? I tried to scream, but all that came out was the thinnest of squeaks. "Yeah," he said, proud of himself. "She wants us to be quiet so she can watch the movie!"

Someday, I will be well again. I will go through painful yet effective sessions of physical therapy. I will come back stronger than ever, with one goal in mind: I will strangle my husband WITH MY BARE HANDS.

All voices in the room fell silent as the most dreaded words known to mankind came floating out of the television, carried upon the breath of Satan himself: "We now return to the 36-hour FaLaLaLa Lifetime movie marathon!"