sterile white room, radiating pain throughout your body. hospital. it makes sense, you remember the tri-centennial. of course that landed you in hospital. death had tried to take you, had almost succeeded, and now you had to live with the consequences. but death is never done, it will never stop reaching its dark and terrifying fingers towards you. it was delayed, it was not stopped. any day now. ❝ i need to leave ---- ❞ but the words are coarse, throat sore as the words escape. you’re still not in a position to leave, simply breathing and speaking is causing enough pain to keep you bed ridden. ❝ i have to go. ❞