[1] ALEXA, and her hell ✓ [Editing]

Devil's Dance ✓

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"if i got rid of my demons, i'd lose my angels."—Tennessee Williams
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The 8th of February, Year 2024.

     "You're going to start feeling some cramps in your stomach, darling, so we're going to dose you up on anesthesia." A pretty French female nurse caresses Alexa's arm reassuringly after whipping out a long needle.

     Her eyes almost crossed seeing the syringe and thus develops the innocent fear of needles. She hasn't seen one before, however she's sure they're not supposed to be that long and thick.

     The doctor puts up an IV of glucose and another of water and turns on the heart monitor, setting up everything. She attaches string after string, chord after chord, so much that Alexa lost track, only registering the patterned beeping of the machine and the pulsing of the pads sticking to her abdomen.

     Working silently, the doctor rubs a cream all over her abdomen, beginning an ultrasound to see what's going on on the inside, before she injects a good dosage of anesthesia into an IV hose. Slowly, Alexa starts drifting in and out of consciousness. The last thing the quiet girl witnesses is the flicking of the syringe by the nurse's ladylike fingers and the stiff wiggle of the needle. Fright is a small word compared to what Alexa feels before going under.

—

     Bip-bip-bip—

     The sound reverberates off the walls of her skull. She's surrounded by darkness and her demons creep out to play. Whispers, it starts as whispers; Anissa's, Sebastian's, Mateo's then Ryan's...

     "My child, help me, please!!"

     "I took care of you and you killed me!"

     "Shut up! I'm dead because of you!"

     "You could've save me! You were right there!"

     "Mommy's gonna try to do better!"

     "I hate you! Disgusting!"

     "You pulled that trigger anyway."

     "It's your fault."

     "It's not so hard now, kill yourself."

     Katya left because she's restless? What about Alexa, who falls victim to voices everytime she's unconscious. They mock her, tell her bad things about herself, blame her for everything, but she knows nothing is her fault, or so she believes. They whisper sweet nothings in her ears, curse words, and root up her worst nightmares.

     "Sorry, mommy can't do better..."

     The surgical doctor stares confused at the girl whose breathing slows, with her lips twitching ever so slightly.

     "Mommy's dead!"

     Every night it's the same thing for Alexa and she stands without a struggle. The whispers have become her friends, her night long lullabies; she sleeps with no trouble. It's fair to ask how, but would anyone understand if explained? It's quite complicated.

     Overcome; one word, one goal.

     Erratic emotions? Overcome. Physical pain? Overcome. Negativity? Overcome. Stay calm, stay healthy. Always stay humble. Slow and steady wins the race, but if she loses anyway, she's not perfect. She accepts the loss and either tries again or moves on.

     Two options: TRY AGAIN or MOVE ON. She chooses to try again repeatedly, because she's accepted that her purpose is with Mr. Moskal. This is where she grew as strong as she is right now and she'll try again, repetitively, just to please the man she believes she owes. It's almost like a toxic attachment, or is it just loyalty to the one who gave her a clear path to tread.

     Even though she's strong for all reasons wrong, at least she overcomes for what she believes in.

     "Dear, Lord." Nurse Indila gasps as Alexa's heart rate spikes. A smile lingers on the child's face, edging into a damned smirk she'll never give when she's conscious.

     The nurse moves to stand by the door, not too close to her patient, just in case–just in case what? Just in case.

     Her feet are glued by the threshold and her hands clutch at the material of her uniform. It seems there's a ball taking place in the mind of her patient.

     Alexa is having a one way dance with her demons.

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