Barty
The haze was constant now. A faint fog creating a halo around everything.
A mattress beneath me, a sheet on top of me, straps keeping my limbs locked in place.
When I slept, it was involuntary. A blur of greens and whites. No dreaming. No pain.
When I was awake, dull pain.
A reprieve to feel somewhat normal again. Basic necessities taken care of to keep us clean and alive.
Back to bed. Back to a painless sleep.
It was colder here. A sheet wasn’t enough.
A pinch somewhere on my right hand. Nothing normal. New needle. Different spot.
Nausea. Lightheaded.
The vomit happened before I could stop it.
“You’re taking too much at once. Give him time to let the hemoglobin return, and we’ll try again tomorrow.” Muffled male voice.
A cloudy hawkish nose and murky brown hair. Taller than me.
“’ayden,” was all I could choke out.
“He needs more morphine, too. He’s starting to come to.”
“I’ll kill you.” All slurred. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”
“You can hardly stand right now, let alone lay a finger on me.”
Not wrong. Sleep was inviting again.
“Fee an’ Goldie an’ Cade’r gonna find you. Kill you. Gut you. Coward.”
Laughter.
“Richard is going to make you watch while he tears them apart. He’s giving your sister to me for my personal blood usage.”
Burning welling in my stomach. Need to destroy.
Kill him.
Kill him.
Hand touched skin, briefly. The odor of scorched skin and hair. The scent of ozone after a lightning strike.
Cursing. Feet stomping. Doors slamming. Alarm blaring.
Hands on me now.
Straps locking me back into place. Needle again.
The sleep was welcoming me back.
It engulfed me. Drowned me. Brought me back to nothing.
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