After last week's surgery, I'm finally starting to see the blood rush back into my fingertips. The warmth of the circulatory current feels like an elastic band was just released from beneath my skin. I'm still cold, shaky, dizzy, and feeling overall unsettled. My slow, cold breaths have synced with the beeping of my blood pressure machine, and I can barely see my chest rise and fall as I muster shallow inhalations. They warned me that it would be a lengthy and painful recovery, but the promised benefits seemed to outweigh the awful healing process.
I have three notes from Jackson sitting on my bedside tray. The nurse told me that I'm not allowed any visitors until my immune system kicks back up, so she's been asking guests to write a letter instead. They took my phone away from me when I entered the clinic, with strict instruction that zero outside communication is allowed, and that if I refused to comply, there would be dreadful consequences.
I'm not ready to read Jackson's notes because I'm not willing to face reality yet. He doesn't know I lied to him about the procedure. When he finds out what I've done, both of our lives will be ruined.
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Still Broken
Ficção CientíficaWhat if our world is controlled by decisions that were made in a past life? When Marisile undergoes an elective life-altering surgery, she begins to realize that her decisions in this lifetime may not effect her, but how can she understand who she...
