Killer Mask [0.15]

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“She passed out again… her throat is inflamed and her heart rate is abnormal. We couldn’t get the tube down her throat due to the inflammation.”

I ease my eyes open. A doctor in a crisp lab coat stands over me, clucking his tongue.

“Also, her eyes are extremely bloodshot. Her breathing nearly reached the point of hyperventilation.” The doctor reads off a chart.

“I…” I whisper. My throat throbs.

“Send the counsellor. Stat!” The doctor says to someone that I can’t see. He ignores me and walks to the machines next to my bed.

I hear a steady beeping, so I must not be dead yet.

He punches a few buttons on a machine next to me and then a long sheet of paper prints out of it.

He clucks his tongue again. Miss Keats materializes in my doorway. I scowl as she walks through it and steps towards the doctor. They bend their heads together and whisper quietly. The doctor hands her the long sheet of paper.

She reads it, and sighs.

Waves of hopelessness wash over me. I bite my tongue as Miss Keats opens her mouth to speak.

“Isabelle… what are we going to do?” She asks me.

“I… don’t know…” I whisper.

“Well – I don’t mean to sound harsh – but if you don’t do something soon, your life will deteriorate. You will – believe me – itch for death.”

I silently stare through her.

“Isabelle… you’ve been warned.” She murmurs and turns on her heels. Unbelievable. She proclaims my death and then walks away.

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“Isabelle? Are you awake?”

I slowly open my eyes, to find Mona sitting on the chair next to my bed. She smiles at me.

“Hey Mona,” I squeak. My throat is like sandpaper.

“Are you okay?”

Am I okay? I almost died (again) and I had a snippy counsellor tell me that I’ll die soon and she asks am I OKAY?

“Are you kidding?” I ask.

“Oh… well… I didn’t mean…” She searches my eyes. Her jaw trembles.

“Sorry… I’m just a little muddled at the moment.” I reply.

“I know. I have to go… I just wanted to catch up.”

“Mona…” I mutter.

She shakes her head and scurries out of the room, almost knocking my respirator over.

What’s gotten into her? I wonder as I drift into darkness.




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Hello there
I thought I'd do the honours, mostly because I really feel I should say something about your writing; I thought this was great. I like the way you described your situations and your writing style...hmm, I like; you definitely know how to grab the reader's attention. I have no complaints on this one but maybe you could increase the length, but that's not much of a problem.

Good job
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"Be yourself" is not advice. It's an existential crisis waiting to happen.
— Hank Green