The First

6.2

A/N: I hope you are having a wonderful day! Enjoy <3 Also, this chapter came from personal experience of my own (not being a prisoner lol, but the other discomfort I can't mention until you read the chapter). And I can say, that this is VERY accurate at least from how it was for me when I had this experience.

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02 - 01 - 2089

My limbs are too weak to move. I can hardly keep my eyes open for more than a few minutes at a time. But so far I have resisted all their efforts to get me to eat. In fact, they even tried to stick a feeding tube down my throat, but I ripped it out and managed to injure one of the orderlies who was doing it.

I've been alone since then. Still in my room, on my bed. I focus on my breathing and keeping it even, instead of the nagging pain in my stomach. It doesn't help much, but at this point I'm willing to take what I can get.

This idea is coming back to haunt me. I'm starting to wonder if maybe they don't really need me after all and are just going to let me die. That certainly would be a surprise, after everything that has happened.

Perhaps that would be better, though. Better than continuing in this life, if it can be called that. My life is an empty pail. My life is the wailing wind. My life is the color grey.

I want my life to be green. To be bright and full of life. I want to live freely, experience things on my own, and choose what I do for myself.

A sigh passes my lips and I almost laugh at the absurdity of my situation, but I don't have the strength. Instead, I allow my eyelids to pull closed once more, and I fade into nothingness.

-

When I come to, I'm almost surprised. Part of me wonders if I am dead, but then I see Doctor Acosta. And a second after that, my eyes clear and I realize I'm in an unfamiliar place.

Wait, no. It's not unfamiliar. This is the same room I woke up in when I hit my head in my bathroom. The same white walls and bare room. Only this time there are more machines beeping around my head and surrounding the bed I'm on.

There are two heavy blankets laid over my lap, providing me with warmth in this sterile room. And I'm thankful for them when I see that I only have a thin cotton gown on instead of my usual clothing. A shiver rolls down my spine when a cold burst of air hits me from the vents on the ceiling.

I try to sit up, only to realize that my hands are strapped to the mattress, as are my feet. I swallow. A burning sensation flares up in my throat and nose. I wiggle my nose, hoping to relieve the pressure. But it worsens.

Panic sinks into my gut. My eyes cross and lock onto the small white tube taped to my cheek. It runs from somewhere behind my bed to my face and disappears into my left nostril.

No. No no no.

I swallow again, now realizing that the discomfort is from the tube that slides all the way down to my stomach. And I realize that I don't feel as weak now. They've been feeding me since I've been out. I can hold my head up now, which proves it.

My eyes snap up to Doctor Acosta who is busy writing something down in her A-book. They glare fury at her until she finally looks up, her expression one of slight annoyance. Fury burns brightly in my mind, a flame stoked by everything that has become my life.

"You've truly disappointed me, Gis," Doctor Acosta says, turning off the A-book and placing it in the pocket of her white coat.