Her violent awakening shakes her to the core. Flytrap eyes writhing in their dry sockets, wanting, ready to latch on to something- anything. Surgical steel wire entraps her lips in a sickeningly woven mass. The tension of the sutures as she fights against them summons beads of hot blood to her tongue, down her chin.
Strung Up.
She hangs
hangs
hangs
limps in some demented marionette stance. Shoulders buckled. Hips twisted. Knees brushing the cold, white tile ans she gently swings- back- forth- back- forth- by her pierced wrists.
Naked body once on pins and needles, now blissfully numb. Latex gloves slowly snip the stitches. Slowly, tediously, pulling, tugging loose skin. Dutifully releasing her from this deep, breathless sleep.
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