- last post: 01.01.0001 12:00 AM PDT
MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY
black beach, nothing but sand and darkness. Sometimes, in the distance, dry lightning: in the flash I see pieces of the wreck around me, the spars and rigging of my brain
-hold on. hold on. Steady up. Get a grip, girl. You have to fight through this.
Take a deep breath.
Survival Key #3: How Badly Are You Hurt?
Mentally, subject is confused and disoriented.
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I keep slipping in and out of consciousness.
Physically, subject is paralyzed but moving.
Okay.
What the hell does THAT mean?
Held down: yes. As if strapped to a table. Could I be in traction in some sick bay, some hospital ward?
Not necessarily one of ours.
But at the same time, parts of me being moved around, emptied out. As if under general anaesthetic, dimly conscious, half-aware as the surgeon cuts off my feet and sews them onto my shoulders. She opens my head with a medical hammer and sand spills out.
I WANT TO DIE I WANT TO-
-no.