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yes, i updated. i'm surprised too.
i was gonna kill off someone but i just couldn't bring myself too. It's just too soon.
nevertheless, i hope you enjoy.
sorry for grammar mistakes.
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The infirmary is cold.
Scratch that. The infirmary is fucking freezing. It nearly makes me believe I'm a life-sized i've cube.
To be honest, I don't know how I got here or when I did but I've been staring up at the ceiling for awhile now, eyes wide and alert, knowing enough that something is happening to me or something happened.
My limbs feel funny, like jello, and I can't move my arms, like they are weighed down by a heavy rocks sitting on the bones. I was freaking out when I opened my eyes and gotten move but I've calmed down since then.
I try to will myself into a dreamless sleep but the memories from earlier blur together and hurt my already foggy head so I choose to stay awake.
The room is dimly light, yellow fluorescent making my bed, a few chests, and doors visible in the dark setting. The windows are shut too so I don't even know what time of day it is either.
I moan in anguish. All of this sucks, all of it.
I shut my eyes and try to sleep again and this time it comes.
It feels like just minutes before I'm awoken again.
Everything is hazy and my chest feels like it weighs a ton, almost as much a boulder at the Grand Canyon. The heaviness isn't what wakes me up though. It's the light stroke of a callus fingertip, underlining my thin cheekbones and the bow of my lips.
It's a warm touch that skims down my neck and rubs against my throat, spreading heat throughout my body before disappearing all together. But the gentle touch comes back, this time on my arm, tracing the lines of tubes that are attached to my fingers. The finger morphs into a hand and holds mine, possessively but not viciously.
I released a shallow breath I didn't know I was holding and open my eyes. My lids feel like they could close all together but I force them to stay open and look around the room and they do. They try to spot things that are familiar, things that jog my memory but I'm still so tired.
I'm welcomed with the same thing as before: a bed (with me on top of it), a few dressers and shut blinds. I roll but to my stomach but stop when an ache in my arms prevents me from doing so.
They hurt so much, I retreat back to the same position I was in before and whimper quietly as if everybody is looking at me in a crowded room. It feels like I'm dying,
I look at my hands but I can't see anything. Anything except a hand. I follow the long arm to the person who's holding my hand and come face-to-face with a certain man that makes my insides erupt just by looking at him.
