Allison Young (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
godelsolution) wrote2013-05-05 06:36 pm
godelsolution) wrote2013-05-05 06:36 pm
Entry tags:
we're not allowed to self-repair
There was screaming and blood and pain. And her leg burned. It burned, and then John was there. John was there with her, holding her, holding her down. Screaming, screaming at her. Telling her that everything would be okay, everything would be fine, she'd be fine, hang on, Allison, he had her.
She believed him. She held on to that, held on to that when everything went dark. When everything went cold. Black. Metal. Coal. Dust.
And she woke up, and there was metal. Metal in her leg. A knife. Digging. Pulling something out and something wet poured on that burned. Seared while bits of metal and wire and thread poked at her skin. Her leg. And she was screaming.
A hand against her forehead, a cool hand against her forehead, like her mother checking for a fever. But it wasn't her mother. It was John.
She believed him. She held on to that, held on to that when everything went dark. When everything went cold. Black. Metal. Coal. Dust.
And she woke up, and there was metal. Metal in her leg. A knife. Digging. Pulling something out and something wet poured on that burned. Seared while bits of metal and wire and thread poked at her skin. Her leg. And she was screaming.
A hand against her forehead, a cool hand against her forehead, like her mother checking for a fever. But it wasn't her mother. It was John.