I Don't Want A Bloody Dad!

Lifeless. Emotionless.

[[Scarlet’s pov.]]

I shuddered slightly. It was cold. So very, very cold.
I tried to talk, but my voice was raspy and I couldn’t get the words out.
I could barely move my lips, or my eyes.
Or just about anything else for that matter.
I felt like a bloody rag doll, lying in wait for some kid to play with it.

Wow. Sounds like me alright.

I shuddered again, it was so cold.
My body is constantly flooded with pain. Sharp jabs here and there, waves splashing over me. I can’t even cry out, because I can’t even move.
I can images in my head. Mostly of clouds, which sucks. I was more of a stargazer than a cloud watcher.

I felt like I’d been lying there for years on end. Just lying there.
There is no time where I am. Just a void, in which I can see clouds. Constant fucking beeping. Hear people talk, feel the pain.
Cry silently.

There were mutters around me almost constantly. I could make out a word or two every now and then, but it was mostly inaudible or just gibberish really.
Every so often there was a “better?”
A lot of the time there was a “no.”
Sometimes there was a “Frank?” followed by a “no.”

They’re talking again. I could feel a hand on my arm, it was shaking. There was some crying. I could make that out. And then came the first properly audible sentences I’d heard since what seemed like a lifetime.
“Has she got any chance?”
“Not unless you believe in miracles.”

And a minute or so later, I could hear a switch being flipped.
And the clouds disappeared, replaced with darkness.
But no stars.