✮ Her head wished she had went on thinking he was an infuriating, overly-confident, horribly handsome asshole, that hated her people and always put himself first. Her heart knew he wasn't any of those things. He was a celestial; a man plucked from t...
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"Perhaps it is impossible for people who don't have younger siblings—or, to be more precise, people never charged in childhood with complete responsibility for their younger siblings—to imagine the huge and tender hollow that such caretaking carves out in a child."
—Joy Castro
When she awoke, Astoria no longer had the piercing headache, but her body was engulfed in pain. It came mostly from her gut, and served as a reminder of the events from the night before. She tried to kill herself. Granted, not in the best way. If she truly wanted to die, she should have aimed for her heart, or even put the frame straight into her neck. But it was no secret that she was selfish, and she was terrified to die.
A steady beeping sounded from beside her, and after a few minutes of watching the grey ceiling through the spinning fan above, Astoria titled her head to the side. There was a thick needle stuck into one of the veins in her hand that hooked her up through various tubes to a machine. The sight made her jolt, but she was secured down. She had never seen anything like it before, and the unknown sent fear shooting up her spine.
Dr. Tsing entered the room shortly after, with her white lab coat swinging behind and her shoes clicking maliciously along the cement floor. When she found Astoria awake she scowled.
"Try something like that again," she began the threat, picking up the clipboard from one of the tables and flipping through a few pages. She barely looked at Astoria as she continued, "And you will spent the rest of your time alive strapped to this table."
Astoria couldn't find the words to respond, and she wasn't given any time to search for any. Soon, two assistants were in the room and they began drilling into her again, this hole being made just under the first one on her thigh. It hurt worse than before, and she moved desperately to try and get free as she screamed. She slipped unconscious half way through the process, but it didn't stop the Mountain Men from finishing.
She was on the cold floor of her cell when she awoke, and when she pulled her head up she found that the area was bare. They removed her cot, and the bathroom was shut and locked. No new painting was hung, and it was clear they were trying to keep her from harming herself again—or, they wanted to punish her. She didn't care much, instead curling up into herself to try and ignore the stinging of her leg.
It wasn't long before they took her again.
"Let me see those last results," Dr. Tsing asked, and one of her assistants quickly placed the board into her hands. Astoria watched weakly as the woman focused on the words in front of her, and after a moment of reading she shook her head. "We need to get more drastic."
The grounder squinted her eyes, not understanding how they could do such a thing. She was missing clumps of her skin, and she had holes in her leg. What more could they do? When the doctor flipped the pages back to lie flat, Astoria went rigid under her harsh gaze.
