Enter the world of 'Stay Woke,' a captivating novel that delves into the unique journey of two young girls. Bound by an unbreakable friendship and an insatiable curiosity, they embark on a quest for a higher consciousness, guided by both their faith...
Jennyruth rhythmically moved her large behind to the beat of manic rap.
"I like you, sweetheart! You're quite a find!"
She twirled again, giving a view to the syringe eagerly held in her chubby hands.
Ruthjenny began to tremble.
"What are you doing? Ruth, what are you doing? RUTH, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
"Ah! Are we kidding? Ruth who?" she hissed.
"You're not well, I'll get you some help. My parents will give you whatever you want. You're not well. We can talk to the school clinic and make su-RUTH, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
"Nothing, little Ruth, just relax. I'm just putting you to bed for a little while because you're quite a bore," she chuckled and injected the syringe into Ruthjenny's neck.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HELP..."
"Nothing's happening, calm down. Your head might spin a bit now, that's all. I've injected 3 mg/kg of Flunitrazepam into your vein. Considering you weigh around 50 kg, that's 150 mg. Don't worry, it's an anxiolytic, hypnotic for deep sedation anesthesia. I should have injected it for spinal or epidural anesthesia, but intravenously, it'll still numb your upper limbs."
"Gluubb."
"Want to say something, dear?"
"Glubbbbbb arrhhhhh."
"Sweetie... can't you already? Well, when injected into the jugular vein, it circulates right away, obviously affecting your face first and then gradually your lower limbs within 120 seconds. Maybe I should have intubated you... I can't remember what the video I studied said. Who knows if you can still breathe on your own. When you're immobile, I'll put a little mirror under your nose... if you're not breathing, I'll give you a tracheotomy!"
Ruthjenny's head slumped, a black void enveloping her. The pain had ended, the body was not a body, weight was not weight, thought was not thought. Fear was not fear.
"Little Ruth, come here, I'll disconnect you, let's check your heartbeat... mmm, no good, can't hear anything, ouch ouch. Stay woke baby, ohh ohh ouch ouch..."
Jennyruth disconnected the right and left arms one by one, ready to support the soft 50 kilograms. She laid the upper part down, bringing the bed closer, then lifted the legs. Ruthjenny was like an inside-out sack, the twisted absorbent paper beneath her.
Taking her from the right, spinning her body, she opened her coat, and searched for the pulse at her neck.
"Damn!"
She hurried to the table, emerged with scissors, a cotton ball soaked in disinfectant, and a scalpel.
"Damn! Damndamndamn."
She cut the sweater around the neck, disinfected the area, and made an incision at the level of the trachea.
Blood sprayed onto her clothes and sweaty face.
"What a mess, Ruth. You piss and bleed like a slaughtered calf!"
She rushed to the table again, emerging with a transparent cannula in a sterile container.
She tore it open and inserted the cannula into the incision.
The bleeding stopped, she cleaned with the soaked gauze, and sealed her operation with sterile tape.
Then she started blowing into the cannula.
"Bi fuuuu tch fuuuu sh fuuu it fuuu fu fuuuu ck."
She still felt the pulse at the neck, then at the wrist.
(WHAT THE HELL DID THAT YOUTUBE VIDEO SAY)
"Sho fuu ck Shit fuuuu sho fuuuu ck"
She took the portable defibrillator.
She had never used it before; usually, cats died without much trouble.
She opened up her sweater, tearing it, the scissors had fallen somewhere.
Conductive gel, or else the body catches fire.
Okay, done.
"Damn, what a bitch! I'm sweating like a pig!"
She turned on the device, which glowed red.
"1 2 3 ... okay, green, go ..."
TO BE CONTINUED...
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