My eyes open vigorously, my body tied down to the same surface. I lift my neck slightly, my eyes studying the space around me.
"Patient now awake, six day comatose concluded, body replenished," someone reports.
Six days. I was gone for six days?
I watch with dilated eyes as I see several people donned in the same rubber attire approach me with syringes.
"N-no," I struggle to say, my throat swollen and vocal cords tight. "Stop," I say, this time more clearly.
"Shut up," a man to my side shouts, and slaps his palm across my cheek.
I ignore him. I ignore the pain. "Stop," I say again, my voice croaking and weak. "You don't know what you're doing."
"I said shut up!"
"You are creating something you cannot handle! Stop!"
Another slap swipes across my face, and I wince, a small whimper escaping me. No one listens, and all simultaneously, they plunge their needles into me, but I refuse to scream.
"Stop," I say again through breaking breaths, "Your task is...i-imposible..." my breaths and words become distant, my voice losing it's momentary strength. That familiar darkness crowds around me, threatening to engulf me once again. "Please...stop, before the outcome cannot be ch-changed," I hear the voice, yet it isn't my own.
In that moment, my whole world falls silent and dark once again.
YOU ARE READING
Pretty Poison
Romance[COMPLETED] The question has always been about love. What is it? What does it feel like? Where does it come from? For her, this question lingers like an unanswered prayer. For him it was the same; blessed with a family of riches yet abse...
