What would you do if you were a life hopper? If every time you died, you woke up in a different body, in a different life? What if you were in a different gender, a different ethnicity?
I'm stuck in this loop, and it never ends. Everyone's always w...
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January 1, 2022
>>Becoming Zyon<<
I've been awake for a short while. Long enough to know that I just might possibly be in my ideal form. My forearms and tattooed biceps are strong, and I'm hairy all over. Lovely brown skin. I haven't stood yet, but I know I'm tall.
I'm in pain, but I'm on morphine so I feel great.
A young nurse bustles in, sees me, and drops all of his papers. "Crap," I hear him mutter as he kneels down and scrambles to pick them up. I smile slightly.
I think the nurse is cute. He has a pretty face. Brown. Hispanic. Curly hair carefully done. I would help him pick up the papers, but I have a broken leg.
Once he's done gathering the papers, he stands up and walks over to my bedside.
"Sorry about that..." he mutters under his breath. He doesn't meet my gaze. My smirk only grows.
"Why are you sorry?" I ask. I like how deep my voice is. Yes, yes and yes! I might've hit the jackpot with this one.
"Oh, um, for... sorry..." he says. That doesn't really make sense as an answer.
He seemed like the type with an incredibly low self esteem. Judging from the way he spoke, I was wondering if he was gay.
"You don't need to say sorry. If I could've, I would've helped you pick those papers up."
He glances at me for the briefest second.
"Thanks." He's busying himself by checking and writing down all my vitals. He enters them into a computer in the corner. "Would you like the television on?" he asked. I didn't.
"Sure." It's rude to turn people down when they offer something, especially minor things like this. They like to feel of service.
He turns on football, which I don't care for.
"Um, so, how are you feeling?" he asks me.
"The morphine has me feeling great."
"Great. Um, your vitals look good. Okay, well, press the button if you need anything." He seemed in a rush to leave.
"Wait," I said calmly, although I felt a little irritated by how fast he was trying to rush out of here. He pauses and looks at me like a deer in headlights. Jesus christ, was I scary or some shit?
"Yes?"
"What's your name?" I ask. He facepalms himself.
"Oh gosh, I didn't tell you? I'm- my name is Sebastian. Sebastian Sanchez, and I'm your nurse till 11pm." He seemed really nervous.
"Ah, okay. Can I get some food? I'm pretty hungry..."
"Oh, uh..." he flips through the papers on his clipboard, scanning them quickly with his eyes. "Yes. And your doctor will be coming in soon to check in on you."
"Okayyy..."
"I'll bring you dinner as soon as I can, okay?" He seemed worried.
"Okay." I wore a wry smile, wondering why he seemed so nervous. Did I make him nervous or did he have to pee or some shit?
