Nightmare

Why the Heck am I Still Alive?

Because it feels like every movement, every breath, now every second of my existence, of the rest of my life will be in this excruciating pain. Like it will never go away, ever.

So, no, I don't stop myself from arcing the knife in an almost-graceful, yet jagged motion and slicing the flesh of my throat.

(+)

I wake in a weird hospital bed. Flat mattress, barred metal frame, it's depressing. 

it's all blurry. Shit. They took my mask off.

I try to sit up, and I almost get knocked out from the pain in my throat and right leg.

I see tubes attaching my arms and left leg to monitors and fucking (beeping) devices. Get it?

Burn marks litter the skin on my arms and I feel a few on my neck. But the funny thing is, they don't hurt at all. So I press at the scars, wondering if I've been out long enough  for burns  to heal, but that's not it.

With every touch, the scars seem to be getting smaller.

My hood is gone, too, so my blue-tipped black ponytail falls down on my neck, some hair frizzy and sticking out the scrunchie.

I rub my eyes. My vision gets clearer by the second and everything comes into focus, even though my glasses are nowhere near.

"Hello?" my voice is hoarse. "Is anyone there?"

The green lady comes into the room, checking the monitors and injecting something into my right arm, whose sleeve is rolled up. Just above the scar.

"Hello," she smirks, and whispers, "Stark."

"You never told me your name," I start. 

"Call me Brand."

Is that her last name?

She leaves the room, and another greenie comes in. The more powerful, scarier, stabbier, and annoying one.

His eyes are green for a second, until they turn blue again.

"I have questions for you," he starts. "And you will  answer them."

"And if I don't, now?" I raise my chin, even given my current condition. Yes, I know: I'm foolish reckless, impulsive, et cetera; I've heard it all before.

"Then you are of no use to me, and I see no reason as to why I don't end your life here and now."

"Do it. And these so-called answers are gone forever," I hold his icy blue gaze.

"And I take it that if I don't kill you, you'll tell me? You just said you weren't going to. Am I to understand that you were lying then, or that you are lying now?"

"I asked what would happen if I didn't tell you now.  There is a chance--And we're going to ignore the fact that the chance is about the size of an atom--that you will know, because as far as I can see, you have a very important role in this story."