Project Sorna

Thirty-four

                      Nothing is the same from the ride I'd been through. I open my eyes to a luminance, and there's no mistaking it for an LED light. My heart settles-this is no heaven. I'm in this bed, hurting, but somehow in bed.

                     I blink-nothing.

                     I breath-nothing.

                     I move my arm-nothing.

                     I move my head-the result is pain.

                     A hospital room. Way past time for this. I'm just thankful enough to be in bed. And all to myself while there was still a curtain to my left.

                     Sure enough, a figure came closer. "How are you doing?"

                    The man sure didn't look like hospital attire. More like a tan long-sleeve and leather coat.

                    "Do I look like I'm here for no reason?" I quarried sophisticatedly.

                    He put on one pout of a face. His eyes saw right through my attitude.

                   "The name's Robin-what's your, idiot?" I half-smiled.

                   "Heath. I'd kill for the name, Robin." his hard, American accent tuning. "Your looking at your recovery specialist, dearest! We're fix'n to make you all the more better."

                   That was all he said before leaving. If only he was Greek-the only Greek man I've ever encountered on the face of the Earth was my long, lost cousin. And he was cute. Greek used to be my particular kind of culture in men. Cowboy accents annoyed me. His cute factor really topped his personality for me.

                   Heath showed up the next minute holding a slender tube of some sort that coiled to a needle. "Okay, fellas! Let's get this girly cuffed down!"

                  Men stepped from behind the bed and did just that. Cuffs latched around my wrists with quick gloved hands, in the meanwhile they didn't mind me frantically pulling away and asking frantic questions.

                "To  h e l l  with this - how am I suppose to believe you're a 'specialist'?!"

                "I have a license - our government is generous. We're going to make you ALL the more better." repeated a villainous Heath.  

               "Where's the government reading me my ri-"

               I stopped talking once a belt came into my mouth and ultimately kept me from spilling out pleads. Nobody in this room would tell me the liquid they were inserting in me, but all in all it didn't look like any IV or vaccine to me. My teeth had a probable bite force of an alligator judging from the excessive pain in my jaws.

              "There we go...nice pearly whites! Here comes the alcohol."

              A woman. "It's the less ethyl wipes, no?"

              "You're right again, Linda."

              I cringed with fear as he dabbed the alcohol on my ligament.

             A fifth somebody adjusted the teensy needle. Almost immediately, my eyes traced the tube to some machinery as I experienced a dizzy spell overwhelming me. The needle was coming closing-too close if you ask me.

             I felt it like I never felt a needle before.