A Hospital Bed, Somewhere in Los Angeles, Sunday
Callisto stared at the ceiling. The way the bed was set up she could have examined the sparsely furnished room without much effort, but she didn't want to. Not again. Ceilings, at least, were meant to be blank.
Her neck itched. Past the drug-induced muzziness and bone-deep weariness that blunted her senses and blurred the edges of her world, she could feel it. The dull, nagging, burning of healing skin and flesh. It was probably going to scar, another constant reminder of failure to carry with her. Occasionally her fingers twitched with the urge to scratch, but on the whole it was easy enough to deal with
Not like the questions, the endless questions. From the nurses (How are you...?), the doctors (Have you ever...?), the police (Who did...?), the woman who was trying so hard to be calm and soothing that it set her teeth on edge (Why...?), Callisto was glad her neck made it near impossible to do more than croak out a syllable or two right now. It meant she didn't have to give voice to the lies that lay on her tongue, thick and bitter as poison. Instead she could just lie and look at the ceiling.
And wish she could just scream.
Her neck itched. Past the drug-induced muzziness and bone-deep weariness that blunted her senses and blurred the edges of her world, she could feel it. The dull, nagging, burning of healing skin and flesh. It was probably going to scar, another constant reminder of failure to carry with her. Occasionally her fingers twitched with the urge to scratch, but on the whole it was easy enough to deal with
Not like the questions, the endless questions. From the nurses (How are you...?), the doctors (Have you ever...?), the police (Who did...?), the woman who was trying so hard to be calm and soothing that it set her teeth on edge (Why...?), Callisto was glad her neck made it near impossible to do more than croak out a syllable or two right now. It meant she didn't have to give voice to the lies that lay on her tongue, thick and bitter as poison. Instead she could just lie and look at the ceiling.
And wish she could just scream.