Tired. So tired... they tell me I'll sleep but never that I'll wake. I'm so tired, but I want to live, to continue on, not to stop helping them.
The wall slides open and the bright light is covered by a looming figure. Tall and dark, I can't tell if it's one of them or not. Then I see the thing in his hands, a needle.
"I- I- I don't want to sleep," I protest as loudly as I can, softly. I tug at the straps holding me to the large metal table, my head turning from side to side making the helmet clank and clatter until, abruptly, I'm stilled by a large hand on my shoulder.
I meet the person's eyes and am surprised to see pity as the needle comes closer and closer until I lose sight of it, only to feel it pierce the skin of my upper arm. I cringe away, but the drug work fast and all too soon the light begins to fade as my eyes drift shut.
The last thing I ever felt was a faint breeze by my ear and a vague voice whispered, "It's not to sleep, but to wake up." Consciousness slipped away even as I comprehended the words.
YOU ARE READING
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RandomA set of story starters. I just wanted to write a scene and when I finish it turns out like this. Enjoy...? Please don't take my story ideas. I'm sorry they're so short, I write them in about 15 minutes and they are kind of like the prompts they gi...
