(OLD) Forever Desires

Chapter Twenty-Three

Twenty-Three

Nearly jumping out of my flesh, I felt a certain restrain keep me pinned to a soft bed covered in gentle white cloths that were smeared in blood. The smell of disinfectants and poisonous, nauseating fumes entered my nose and flourished throughout my body. It was disgusting. Hacking like a cat with fur caught in their throat, I let my germs spread over the blanket as I kept my palm up in The Born's face — hoping he would keep that exact distance from me as I coughed. I could feel the blood wanting to travel up my throat and just explode from my lips — nasty, I know. Suddenly my throat's circulation was cut off, causing me to suddenly stop trying to hack a lung out and choke on my own breath. 

The Born raised an eyebrow at me as he folded his arms over his chest, watching me try to catch my own breath. What the hell did this bastard give me? I thought, tempted to rip my own throat out to stop the severe hacking. Finally have some control over my breath, I took a straining inhale and could feel the blood rise in my throat. Hesitant to exhale, I felt the blood travel up my throat and pour on my tongue, leaving no other choice than to let the blood dribble from my mouth. Pulling up my knees, I winced at the pain. I didn't remember receiving any wounds on my legs.... Slowly pulling the sticky sheet from my legs I saw pools of blood and bandages that were just begging to be torn off. What did this bastard do to me!

Glaring at him, I watched as he backed away a bit and pulled a the curtain over his body slightly. His flesh completely covered — except for his face and peeping hand — he stared at me in absolute fear. He was terrified of me. Terrified of what I have become. 

Swinging my legs over the bed, the sheets fell to the ground graceful and heavy. My heart beating with a hell full of vengeance; it was nearly impossible to contain myself. Feeling my veins start to throb, I could feel a drug begin to work in there. Everything was kicking into gear. Looking over at a try of medications, scalpels, syringes and bandages (along with other medical crap), I grabbed a syringe from the second tray and stabbed it in the bottle, which held the antidote to this poison. The pain wasn't subsiding, it was only becoming more dense and heavy, making my strength slowly disappear into a pile of thin ash. Pulling the fully filled syringe, I held out my left forearm — covered in scars, scabs and scratches — I traced it for the sight of a vein. Finding the trail of a vein, I poked the flesh slowly with the needle, then quickly dispensed the antidote in my veins. The pain only flourished and made me go totally insane. Dropping the syringe, I collapsed to the ground, and listened to the loud beating of my heart. 

Biting my lip, I could feel the tears corner my wide eyes. The shock that left me frozen was absolutely terrible as the heartbeat accelerated in speed. Hammering in my chest, it felt as if it were ready to bust from my flesh and leave me to die. Pressing my palms against my eyes, I let my tears drip from my chin and splash against the floor. I couldn't handle the pressure that was in my chest right now. I could barely move after I brought my palms to my eyes! It was a no brainer why I was begging for the pain to stop! Feeling no hope left in me, I let go of the pray of having the pain subside, I dropped my shoulder to the ground. 

No one would ever understand or feel the pain that was rushing within me. Memories were flashing by like pages of an album (many of the pages resmebling to the ones that were in my mother's own albums stored back in the forbidden bookcase). But they weren't memories that I could remember all that well. Most were vague and some were shocking to even remember. None of my recent turmoils appeared within those 'pages'. None. 

Feeling a needle wedge in the vein of my arm, I could feel a light liquid clear up the density of the poison and supposedly 'antidote'. My veins purifying, the pain was subsiding, and my breath was no longer hesitant. Blood, that I hadn't even noticed, fell from the corners of my mouth as I raised my head. Looking at The Born's kneeling figure, I could see strands of hair stinging my eyes. Looking at the hair, I widened my eyes at my late realization. Running my fingers over my flesh, I could feel the grittiness of the clogged pores (I also learned this back when I still had a 'styling' team). It was no longer smooth and clean, it was like sandpaper at its worse. Looking at The Born, he gave me a disappointed smile and pulled out a vile of pills. Only four lay still in the glass cylinder bottle. They were a vibrant red with the letter 'R' printed on it.