Operation

They tell me it will be fine.
That it's just a little nap.
Then they make race car sounds as they push the bed in the white room.
They put a plastic cup over my mouth and tell me it might taste funny.
I can't help the giggling.
I'm nervous.
I'm scared.
Every instinct in my body says to run, but my head is getting light.
And the room is spinning.
And there are people everywhere, masked and nameless.
And then one of the faceless people walk past and my eyes can't stay open anymore.
I watch him... or her?... walk past and then I fade away.
Maybe I'll never wake up.
Maybe I will.
I won't know for some time.
But the fear is gone.
Along with everything else.
I'm just empty.
Not lonely or content.
Just there.
But not...

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