Stay With Me

Chapter 7: The Operating Room

The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly, casting a sterile glow on the stark white walls of the operating room. The cold air smelled of antiseptic, sharp and medicinal, biting into Lily's senses like needles against her skin. She lay on the hard operating table, her thin hospital gown offering little protection from the chill that seeped into her bones. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing the panic rising within her.

She could hear the distant murmur of the nurses and the steady beeping of machines, each sound amplifying the dread that constricted her throat. It wasn't the physical pain that scared her the most—it was the betrayal, the unimaginable cruelty of those she had trusted most. Her body trembled, and she tried to squeeze her eyes shut, hoping that if she couldn't see the room, she could escape the nightmare, if only for a moment.

"Just breathe deeply," a nurse's voice instructed, pulling Lily back to the harsh reality. She was a middle-aged woman with a kind face, but even her gentle tone couldn't cut through the fog of fear that clouded Lily's mind.

Lily wanted to scream, to beg for someone to stop this. She wanted to ask for David, to demand why he wasn't there, holding her hand, comforting her. But she knew the truth. He wasn't coming. He didn't care. He never did.

David had promised to be her savior, to take her away from the hell she called home. He had held her close, whispered sweet nothings, and filled her head with dreams of a loving family, of a life far from Sophia's shadow. But it was all a lie, every word, every touch. Now, as she lay on the operating table, she realized that David was just another extension of the nightmare—a different face, but the same cold, calculating betrayal.

A cold hand gripped her wrist, and Lily flinched, her eyes snapping open. The nurse was adjusting the IV drip, her movements were efficient, and detached. She looked up at Lily and offered a small, sympathetic smile, but it was the kind of smile reserved for those who didn't know the depth of the pain they were witnessing.

"Is there someone you want us to call?" the nurse asked softly, misinterpreting the tears welling up in Lily's eyes.

Lily shook her head, her voice lost in the swell of emotions. Who could she call? Her parents? The ones who had taken her in just to make her feel unwanted? Her fake sister, Sophia, who would relish in her suffering? There was no one. David had been her last hope, and now he had abandoned her too.

"Okay, just take a deep breath," the nurse instructed again, this time more firmly. She adjusted the mask over Lily's face, and the sharp scent of anesthesia filled her lungs. The world around her began to blur, the edges of her vision dimming. The beeping of the machines grew distant, and the sounds of the operating room faded into a dull hum.

As the anesthesia took hold, memories flooded Lily's mind—moments of quiet despair hidden behind the walls of the Patterson house. Sophia smirks, the way her parents always turned away, David's empty promises. She was drowning in them, suffocating under the weight of her sorrow. The betrayal was suffocating, like invisible hands pressing down on her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs.

Lily felt herself slipping away, her thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. The pain in her heart was far more unbearable than any physical pain she had ever known. She had lost everything: her dreams, her future, her child. And no one cared. The darkness crept closer, and she let it. Perhaps, she thought, it would be easier to disappear into the void, to never wake up from this terrible dream.

But just as the world went black, a single thought pierced through the haze: I'm not ready to die. The realization burned in her mind, defiant and fierce, fighting against the pull of the anesthetic. She wasn't ready to let go, to let them win. But the darkness was stronger, and soon, it swallowed her whole.