This was not a rush of warmth.
This offered zero comfort.
The medication hit my bloodstream like volcanic magma.
Or was it lava now? Was it magma while contained in the syringe, transforming the moment it moved into its new environment?
My spine arched against the restraints as much as it could, which was… not at all. A scream built in my throat but died there, trapped behind clenched teeth. This was agony. Torment. The most wretched kind of suffering.
Who could survive this?
But I had to survive. I had to!
My veins felt like they were being stripped raw from the inside out, but I couldn’t succumb to dying now. Not when the promise of tomorrow scorched throughout me.
"Patient showing expected pain response," a clinical voice noted. "Heart rate elevated to 110."
Expected? This was expected?I wanted to laugh or cry or both. Through tear-blurred vision, I looked as far as I could to my left. Doctor Emerson watched the monitors intently; his forehead creased with anxiety. This was why he’d stopped speaking. This was what he’d kept trapped inside instead of telling me the truth. That I’d been wrong; I’d never experienced pain before,andthis redefined the word.
I bit down on the inside of my cheek, tasting copper as my teeth broke skin. The burning sensation raced from my arm to my chest. Once planted at the center of my being, it spread outward, seeking every corner of my body. My fingers clenched into fists, wrist straps biting at my skin as I pushed upward, desperately wanting to hit anyone close enough to make them feel pain too.
Though my fists were too weak. They couldn’t damage anyone or anything.
Low muscle tone. Loose joints. Brittle bones. Papery skin.
If I lived through this, would those assessments of my fragile body shift? Would I become strong?
"Heart rate increasing," called out one of the technicians. "110... 120..."
I forced air into my lungs, trying to steady myself. "If I survive, it's worth it," I whispered over and over again, the mantra barely audible even to my own ears, let alone those working around me. "If I survive, it's worth it.”
The burning intensified, transforming into something sharper, more precise—like thousands of microscopic blades carving new pathways through my cells. Sweat beaded on my forehead, trickling down my temples despite the room's chill.
There was purpose in this pain.
But... God, I’d thought all the other pain held purpose. Yet, I was still dying a little each day. And soon, the end would knock upon my door. Death desiring to carry me away.
The torture was becoming too much.
My lashes fluttered as unconsciousness threatened. I fought to peel my eyelids apart, fought to stare up at the blinding lights above.
"Blood pressure rising," someone said from somewhere far, far away. "Administer five milligrams of stabilizer. The blue, not yellow."
"If I survive, it's worth it," I repeated, louder this time. The words became my anchor. "If I survive, it's worth it."
My body betrayed me, starting to tremble despite my efforts to remain still. The tremors began in my fingertips and spread, becoming full-body shudders. A groan escaped before I could swallow it back.
“You’re doing so well, Lucy. So very well.” Doctor Emerson’s voice pushed into the haze of my mind. Things were becoming fuzzy. I couldn’t think. His soothing voice continued to offer me a stream of serenity to counter the chaos.
"Heart rate 150 and climbing," called a technician, alarm edging into his voice.
"Adjust the flow rate," ordered a voice muffled by the fog of aching. "Decrease by twenty percent."
The adjustment made no difference to the fire consuming me from within. I had no energy to fight against the pain now. My body felt limp and lifeless. Stubbornly, through gritted teeth, I added my mantra to Doctor Emerson’s voice: "If I survive... it's worth it. If I survive..."
Worth never having to endure endless needles, immunity treatments, blood transfusions. Worth walking outside in the fresh air. Worth the chance to truly live instead of merely exist.
"Halfway there, Lucy. You can do this, my girl. You’re a fighter,” Doctor Emerson spoke fiercely, lending me his strength now.
