Due to content and possible triggers, please be warned before reading.
January 4, 2018
There was a knock on the door, but Alyssa could not answer it. She could barely move, not even to open her eyes, falling in and out of consciousness. The banging on the old, wooden door sounded like a drum in her head.
Thump.
Thump. Thump.
Her stomach pulsated from the knife cut that split open her skin. It wasn’t the first time a knife and her skin connected. The welcome of an old friend who came for a visit. Emotion. A feeling—even if it was pain.
Soon the knocking stopped. Alyssa could sleep, finally.
A key penetrated the lock, and the door opened. By that time, it was too late to open her eyes. She felt nothing except coldness.
#
When Alyssa finally opened her eyes, the whiteness of the room swallowed her. She coughed and felt pain again, which was good. It meant she was still alive, even if she didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
The nurse walked into the hospital room.
“Where am I?” Alyssa said with a scratchy voice.
The nurse held no smile or kindness. “Mercy Hospital. Do you know why you are here?”
She knew why, just not how or who helped her get there. Alyssa lifted the hospital gown to look at her stomach without caring that nothing covered her genitals.
The nurse yanked it down. “I’d advise you leave that alone until the doctor comes in to see you.”
Alyssa said nothing.
The on-call doctor arrived with a woman dressed in a suit. She had a clipboard in her hand, flipping the pages with the other.
Two doctors—it must be serious.
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