My legs were weak and bruised. When my bloody stump of a hand bashed with the gray cement, it split into three HHS Blue Pony Softball Shirt, terrible segments of long, crimson skin. I expected to pass out from the pain, but my nerves were completely gone from that limb. When I managed to tolerate all of this pain, I tried to get back on my feet, but I sensed something squirming in my arm. The terrible mess of a hand squelched and twisted. The three long skin chunks that remained on my left arm fused together and writhed. I felt it. I knew that something was inside of me. A living, moving, breathing thing. At this point, I gave up. Life just wasn’t worth living. I knew screaming would do any good. I was excluded from most of society, and the fact that the area was gated didn’t make it any better.
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As I accepted my hellish fate, I took one look inside of the morgue. I saw something shiny glimmering in the fluorescent light. Reflecting brightly into my HHS Blue Pony Softball Shirt . It was my only choice. The scalpel, I thought to myself. It was the only way. I stumbled to my feet, and crawled to the four brick steps that led to the comforting light of my workspace. I had assurance and confidence that I would survive. I fumbled up the steps. My vision was blurry, and I pushed forward on the black, iron bars in front of the glossy doors.