Frei im freien Fall

It's Mother's voice. I can hear it, it calls for me.

She needs me.

She repeats my name again and again, slowly, clearly. She pronounces it letter by letter as if I couldn't understand her.

But I do understand her.

I would, how I would run to her.

My body shakes in the agonizing need of reaching for her, it stretches, it writhes, I can feel my shoulders dislocating, my back breaking, my knees giving in under the tension.

I can hear myself screaming, I recognize my voice, and I feel the pain in my throat as it scratches and the taste of blood on my tongue.

If I could I would tear my arms apart with my own teeth just to free myself and go to her. If I could.

When I open my eyes it's difficult to tell apart the nightmare from the reality.

I'm still screaming, I'm still kicking, I'm still trying to tear apart my arms just to being able to sit.

I'm still hurting.

How much time passes by before the door of my room opens, filling it with light, I couldn't tell. What I know is that my wrists are bleeding, my ankles are purple with bruises. And I can't even feel the pain of the injection the nurse is giving me in my neck, I'm too busy trying to bite her hand.

- Hold him down! -

I don't even know who this voice belongs to, I don't care. Before they restrain my head too, I'm able to sink my teeth into the woman's hand. She's not the only one to be surprised that I did it. I didn't even know I was strong enough to do it, but still.

I grit my teeth, I hold tight, more than I can and when she tries to pull back, screaming in pain, a shock wave, starting from my teeth, runs through my whole spine. Every jerk hurts my entire dental arch, I can almost feel my incisors creaking.

Just a small, aware corner of my mind warns me that if I happened to tear a tooth off not only it won't grow back, but it will be like ad horrible broken window in my smile.

But there's another part of my mind that hurries to remind me that, after all, I have no more reason to smile.

I can feel the second shot because it comes all of a sudden, on my thigh, like a stab, painful enough to leave me breathless for a moment, and I end up opening my mouth just enough to let the nurse free from my grasp.

She holds her hand to her chest, looking at me as if I was a dangerous animal, a reptile she got too close to, a crocodile, a snake, something slimy and cruel with sharp teeth.

I want her to see me that way, that's why I smile.

Oh, maybe I still have reasons to smile.

I'm sure I can taste in my mouth not just my blood - some because of my throat scratched from my screams, some because of my teeth undergoing all that stress- but even hers.

Seeing her skin becoming pale is almost too satisfying.

Then it comes the daze. It spreads like a poison, starting from the entering point on my leg, so slowly and sweetly that it's difficult to fight not to let myself go. It's a cotton fog, soft, so cozy and warm. It reminds me of Mother's embrace.

But no, I don't want the unconsciousness, I don't want to see those horrible images, I don't want to be defenseless when it happens. I don't wanna go to Him.

I squirm again, and again, but my body's becoming so heavy, and I'm so tired, I can't even find a good reason to keep on fighting.

The darkness comes and grabs me, gently at first, cradling me, than grabbing my hair, pulling me back.