Summary: Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.
-Norman Cousins

 I opened my eyes. The environment around me was blurry; after a while it became clear. I was at school on the ground floor out front, but it looked wrong. The sky was pitch black; the sun was dark red, casting its crimson glow on the city below. Then I checked myself; no wounds or bruises. Strange, you suspect from a fall that high that you would be very messed up. But here I am, totally unscathed.

 

As I stood up, I felt stiff, almost as if I were running all day. I proceeded down the stairs and into the parking lot below. There were no car’s in the lot, and the parking lot itself was covered in some sort of fluid. I walked through the shallow pool of liquid; it smelt like copper, whatever it was. However, the feeling in my gut tells me this isn't just any fluid. I bent over and touched the pool with the tip of my finger. It was dark and sticky; then it hit me. It was blood . The strange fluid was blood!

 

I attempted to return to the stairs. Until something grabbed my leg, causing me to trip in the blood, coating myself in it. I managed to flip myself around, only to see a pair of withered orange & white-scaled hands holding onto my leg. I attempted to kick them off but to no avail. Then another pair rose from the blood and grabbed my other leg; three more hands appeared and grabbed my arms and torso. They were pulling me under the crimson pool. I started to panic.

 

“Wait! No, let go of me. Let go of me! ” I screamed as I tried to break free.

 

Then a final pair of hands arose from the pool. They had dark scales and were also withered. It grabbed onto my face and pulled me under. I felt the cold, stale blood envelop me. Is this hell? For what I had done, I deserved this fate. I thought to myself as I got dragged deeper into the blood pool. Then my view became pitch black, and I felt the hands let go.

 

I felt strange as they let go. I don't feel the blood anymore. It took me a while to realize my eyes were closed. As I opened my eyes, I was bombarded by light, which made it hard to focus on anything. My hearing returned, and I heard the beeping and running of various machines. As my sight returned, I realized where I was at. I was inside a hospital room. I felt completely numb; I could only guess what cocktail of drugs they were pumping into me. I felt the respirator pumping air in and out of me through the mask.

 

I looked around the room. Besides a couple of machines, a wall-mounted flatscreen, and an alarm clock displaying 2:03 PM on the table to my left. There was no one in the room with me, but there was a vase with white tulips and blue hyacinths on that same table. I wondered if Mom put them there– Mom…, oh god, my parents. I can only imagine what they think of me already; their child is a school shooter, and Naser. My baby brother; was killed by my hand. Why am I still–

 

Before I could think anymore, I heard the door open. A female yellow trike in blue scrubs walked in. The triceratops must be a nurse; she walked toward my bed and stopped. Her eyes widened as she realized I had awoken, and she hurried out of the room. Probably to get a doctor to examine me. A few minutes went by before anyone entered the room. A male albino raptor entered the room with the trike nurse. The raptor was wearing a lab coat; he must be the doctor. The doctor looked me over before using a small pen light to see if I could focus on it.

 

The doctor put it away and looked at me. “Can you hear me?” he asked.

 

I attempted to say something, but all I could let out was a groan. “You don't have to say anything; just nod if you can hear me.”

 

I slowly nodded. The doctor brought up a notepad and wrote something down. “Okay, that's good. Now, do you have any blind spots in your vision?”

 

I didn’t notice any, so I shook my head. The doctor jotted that down. “That’s very good. Do you have any pain, like a headache or something similar?”

 

I didn't feel anything other than the onset of numbness, so I shook my head again. Then the doctor jotted even more information down. “That's good to hear. Now, this next question might be difficult. Do you remember how you were injured?”

 

Remember? I had the feeling of my legs breaking under me and my arm breaking etched into my mind. I felt off as I tried to think about what happened after. I think I blacked out after– Why don't we teach her a lesson? – It hit me. I was beaten by a group of students after I fell. How could I forget? The doctor saw the faces I was making as I recollected my thoughts.

 

“It's okay if you don't remember. It’s common after suffering a concussion. Though that is not exactly what we’re concerned about. Shortly after you sustained the injury to your head, you had been put into a deep coma.”

 

A coma? How long had I been out? Even after that nightmare, it felt like how you would usually sleep. The doctor looked at his notepad; his face scrunched up for a moment just before he spoke. “Fang… you have been in a coma for a month.”

 

A month! How is that possible? I thought the shows and movies were exaggerating about stuff like that. “Now, I understand your confusion; it’s normal to be confused, and it's common for a coma to last a month at most. Now, there is one last thing I should be addressing. You suffered several injuries from your incident . Normally I would wait at least a couple of hours to address the type of injuries you sustained. But in this case, one of the injuries is very apparent. I would like to ask you to remain as calm as you can. Becky, would you remove her- I apologize. Their respirator?”

 

The Nurse walked to one of the machines and turned it off, I felt the machine stop pumping air into me, and she removed the mask. It was difficult, but I was able to breathe on my own after a few strained seconds. Why would they want me to remain calm? I looked at the nurse and doctor. They looked back at me with concern. I wondered why until my eyes focused on my beak. My heart began racing as I realized why they were concerned. I was missing half of my upper beak. A memory of someone stomping on it surfaced. My breaths became rapid. I- Is this real? I tried to lift my arm, but it felt like a sack of lead was holding it back.

 

“I understand what you’re thinking, but I can only imagine how it would feel. To lose something that was once a part of you from the moment you were born in a mere instant.” The doctor said as he tried to console me.

 

How could he imagine?! I’ve been deformed , disfigured even! Would Anon still– Anon…

Oh god, is he still alive? No please, don't tell me I killed another person that I didn't mean to harm. I felt tears well up in my eyes. P- please be alive Anon. The floodgates opened as tears fell from my eyes. I felt pressure on my left hand; the nurse named Becky who was on the other side of the bed was holding my left hand. Strange that she would switch to a different side of the bed to do that.

 

The doctor on the other hand just stood at the foot of the bed. He seemed to be contemplating something. The nurse’s show of kindness helped calm me down a little. How can I live like this? What is a pterosaur without a full beak!?  “Again Fang, We’re sorry that we cannot save it. But it's not all over. We do have a way to restore your beak’s upper half, but not fully. We can install a polymer prosthesis on your missing half. It can help you speak and eat properly again. You don't have to decide on it right this instant.” The doctor said.

 

A prosthesis… for my beak? I didn't know that existed. Wait, if I could eat normally with it. How did they feed me when I was out? I glanced down at my abdomen to see a slender tube sticking out. What's worse was I didn’t even feel its presence. The doctor noticed my realization. “Yea, we couldn't feed you normally. Lucky for you it's temporary.”

 

I was not amused. I can only guess how they cleaned any waste I produced. The doctor wrote down a final line of notes on his notepad and hooked it to the side of the bed. “Well Fang, I will return in a few hours to address the rest of your injuries. Trust me; you need some time to process this. Oh! Where are my manners? My name is Dr. Nathaniel Burns. You will be seeing me frequently. Usually we switch doctors between patients weekly, but we are short-staffed lately due to recent events. I assure you it's nothing to worry about.” Dr. Burns put some weight behind what he said.

 

I settled back on the bed as Dr. Burns and Nurse Becky began to leave the room. Before they did they turned on the radio on the alarm clock next to me. It was playing… music? It was peppy, but it sounded like it belonged in an elevator; or something to play while you're on hold. But my mind tuned out whatever the radio was playing, out of everything that happened at school. I don't know why, or do I know how. But one thing was for certain.

 

I am alive.

 

But should I be? Usually people are happy to be alive after suffering from near-death experiences. However… I don't feel that way, and I know why. I hurt people, to put it lightly. I also hurt my brother and my boyfriend. Both of which I tried to save from what I had planned, but I failed. Then there are my parents. They must’ve been worried sick once they heard about the shooting just before they found out I started it. Do they even love me anymore? After what I had done? I can only imagine what cell Dad would throw me In. And mom– she deserved a better child than me, a child that I had taken away.

 

And to top it all off, I liked it. All of it, even to the very last second, just before I recognized Naser. Why did I not recognize him? “I love you, Fang.” Those words echoed through my mind. I’m so sorry Naser; I never meant for you to get hurt; please believe me… please? I felt another round of tears stream down my face as I wallow in my guilt. And Anon… is he alive? I shot him in the leg, but it broke, and the blood he lost was surprising. I’ve heard stories of humans surviving worse scenarios, proven even more true by the fact Anon survived the express trip down the school stairs and the crash landing into the bollard.

 

I had some hope that Anon might’ve survived. Perhaps I could ask Dr. Burns about Anon; If I can speak. I don't know how difficult it would be for me to even attempt to speak. I guess I could try something simple. Let's try ‘apple.’ I prepared myself to speak. “Ahhle.”

 

Jeez. I hope someone could understand me. Let's try something else. “On the nahtain uh giants, where I reshide.”

 

At least I knew I could speak a coherent sentence without sounding like I belonged in the special needs class. One last thing to speak, before I can say it to Dr. Burns. “Is there a hunan in the hosital naned Anon?”

 

That's the best I could do from my broken beak. I just hope they could understand me. I mean they should; they’re doctors after all— one of the most intelligent people in the world. Wait… who filled out my papers in the hospital? If my parents filled it out, it should've had Lucy on the notepad, not Fang. Maybe one of my friends did it, though I doubt they could do that since they were not related to me; unless my parents put it there. But why would they? They always called me Lucy; they recognized me as their daughter. Not their non-binary child.

 

The music made its way back into my mind. Wait, what time is it? I glanced at the alarm clock. 3:32 PM… how long was this song!? It had been more than an hour after they turned it on. The clock itself looked like it was well within arm's reach. I lifted my left arm; It took some effort. I didn't know why it was difficult to lift it. My hand landed over one of the tune buttons. I flexed my fingers into a better position in an attempt to press it. After a while, the button was pressed. It changed to a station playing jazz. I pressed the button again. Ew, country? The button was pressed yet again. Then the melancholic tunes of a guitar graced my ears.

 

Finally… indie rock, some real music. I returned my weakened arm to the bed. I had nothing better to do other than wait. So I waited; the hours trudged on slowly. Sometimes I found myself thinking about Naser. He deserved so much more than I did. Then there was Naomi… the image of her head imploding on itself is burnt into my mind. Did she really deserve it? She did interfere with my life, but I don't think that justified murder. After all, Naser was going to dump her. It would’ve been better to see Naomi in the dumps than being dumped in a grave.

 

The door to the room opened, and Dr. Burns appeared through it along with Nurse Becky with an X-ray view box and a folder. I glanced at the clock, 7 PM. I lost track of time. “Good evening Fang.” Burns began, “I see you changed the station on the clock. Good to know the inactivity in your arm hasn't hindered you.”

 

I nod in agreement. The Nurse pulled the X-ray view box in front of me several feet away. Becky hands Dr. Burns the folder, “Now, Fang, we are here to talk about the rest of your injuries; now some of this might come as a shock to you, so please try to stay as calm as you can.” He said as he opened the folder and pulled an X-ray image out; then he put it on the view box.

 

The image was of my skull. It has two views, a top-down view showing my brain and a small dark spot in it. And a side view showing the side of my skull with a dark gray line going through the forehead. Burns begins to speak.

 

“Fang, as you can see in this image here. There is a small dark spot on the frontal lobe on the right side of your brain. That is what's called a frontal lobe hemorrhage; you suffered that from blunt force trauma to the head, which leads us to this image here, where you suffered a skull fracture. Lucky for you we mitigated the effects of it after our first operation on you by reliving pressure in that area and covering the fracture with synthetic bone residue, but there is no telling when the brain might recover fully from this. I won't lie; there might be side effects. Some range from loss of motor function, difficulty understanding language, and visual/auditory hallucinations. If you suffer any of these, please let us know as soon as possible.”

 

The image of a sneaker kicking me in the head popped into my mind. I lost consciousness right then and there. My head hurts just thinking about it. Dr. Burns pulled out another image. This one displayed a front view of my chest; there seemed to be jagged white lines along most of my ribcage. The image seemed… off. I can't put my finger on it. Burns spoke again.

 

“As you see here, you had suffered three rib fractures and four breaks by what appears to be blunt force trauma. Luckily we managed to realign and secure the broken ribs into place with metal plating and screws. Some fractures had been covered in synth bone residue. This was part of our first operation on you; it was an emergency operation at the time. We were more prepared for the second operation than the first. You should feel some discomfort as you move your body around, but your body will get used to it.”

 

Raptor Jesus! I got injured badly by the student mob. There is more, isn't there? And Burns pulls out more X-rays and places one in the viewer. It showed a picture of one of my legs. It looked normal… except for a few grey lines running down it.

 

“Now your leg suffered a hyperextension which led to a dislocation and a break through the flesh. It tore your leg muscles along the way. We managed to relocate your leg and stitch up the torn muscles with dissolvable stitches, as seen in the viewer. But unfortunately, the damage to your leg was rather severe. I won’t lie to you; you need intensive therapy if you want to use it with a prosthesis. Without therapy, you won't be able to stand on it with your full weight.” Dr. Burns— wait… what did he say?

 

I cocked my head at him to show confusion. What did he mean by prosthesis? Why would a fake beak have anything to do with my leg? Dr. Burns looked concerned, almost as if he realized what he said. Without saying a thing, he cleared the viewer and pulled out one final image. Before he put it on the viewer, he said one thing. “As I said, you needed the time to process your disfigurement.”

 

Dr. Burns puts the image on the viewer… it showed an x-ray of my entire body, but something looked off. I… where is my right arm? I lifted both arms; the left one felt weak as I lifted it to my view. While my right… it should be right there. I lifted it, so it should be right there; so why is it not there!? I glanced at where my right arm should be– It wasn’t there. My entire right arm is gone. I can feel it, but it's gone! What have I done to myself? I tried to stay calm, but my heart was beating out of my chest. I hear a monitor beep three times to my right.

 

“Fang, I would recommend that you try to remain calm,” Burns said as he snapped his fingers at the Nurse.

 

My arm is gone… am I imagining it? I looked at the image on the viewer again, there was still no right arm, but that wasn't the only thing missing. There was another abnormality; my right shin is missing from the image. I know what I did. Instead of dying, I mutilated myself. Breathing was getting hard as I felt a tightness constricting my chest. Why did I stop myself from certain death? Out of everything, I just had to screw something up again, didn't I? The machine is beeping rapidly now. Dark spots were beginning to form in my vision. My ears started to ring. All I could hear was my racing heart.

 

“Ah hell! Becky ge- the s- tify crash- Fan-”...

 

<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>

 

I groggily opened my eyes… I’m still alive. Fuck… I glanced at the alarm clock next to me. 6:00 AM. It was still playing the indie station, but it was near silent. It took me a minute to realize I had the respirator on again. I looked to my right side to see if I dreamt of losing my limbs. I had no arm… I didn't dream of last night; was it last night? The door opened to the room. A new Nurse walked in, an aged red male stegosaur wearing a blue cap pulling a mop and bucket. Wait… that's a janitor, isn't it? The janitor looked around the room before realizing I was awake. Once he did, he tipped his hat.

 

“‘Scuse me, ma’am.” Was all he said as he left the room.

 

Not even five minutes later, the albino doctor walked into the room. He seemed tired; I can only guess how much he is being put through during the staff shortage. He seemed surprised by the fact that I’m awake.

 

“Ah! Good morning Fang! You gave us quite the scare last night. I apologize for the distress we gave you. We did try to save what we could, but your entire right side was too injured to be saved. I will spare you the details of why that came to be.” Dr. Burns said, the weariness present in his voice.

 

I just looked at him. He sighed as he brought the clipboard up and jotted down a few notes. I returned my attention to my missing arm. Why do I still feel it? Burns gave me his full attention once again. “If it helps, we did have another patient ask for you as soon as we informed him that you had awoken. Does a certain Anon Mous sound familiar to you?”

 

I perked my head up as he said Anon’s name. Anon is- alive?! I felt a massive weight that I didn't know I had get lifted off my shoulders. I nodded fervently at the doctor. He seemed intrigued, weird. You’d think a doctor would be happy about their patient being at ease. But I'm sure Dr. Burns knew full well that I'm no ordinary patient. And I'm even more sure that he knew what I did to Anon. Burns gave a soft smile after a few seconds.

 

“Glad to know, he will be out of the hospital in a week. Maybe he could visit you around that time. In the meantime, I’ve got another medical issue to address. I promise it's not as bad as yesterday, but it needs to be addressed.”

 

I furrowed my eyebrows at what he said. He hung the notepad up before he spoke again.

 

“During your coma, your muscles were degrading. You may have noticed the weakness in your left arm when you tried to lift it. This condition is called muscular atrophy. Now we did our best to mitigate the effects of it through electrostimulation in the muscles around your torso and spine. For your limbs, we used stretches and massages. All of these inactive exercises lasted 15 minutes a day. But we would still have to do extensive exercises, especially for your left leg, for you to use a leg prosthesis. It should take at least three weeks for you to regain lost muscle mass; at most, one or two months.”

 

That explains why my arm felt so weak. Does it really take that long to recover my muscle mass? This sounds like a difficult and long time, all for a prosthetic limb. I know there are more pressing concerns than exercises waiting for me outside this hospital.

 

“Also another thing, this came in rather quickly than I expected.” Dr. Burns said as he pulled something out of his lab coat.

 

It was a long, curved, flesh-toned apparatus with metallic clamps at the end. It almost looks like a– “It's your beak prosthesis! With this, you can eat solid foods and speak properly. During the second operation, we managed to carve multiple clamp spots on the remaining half of your beak; so we could install this onto the remaining top half. So what will it be, Fang? Did you want this installed?”

 

I was astonished at the peculiar device presented to me. I nodded in agreement; after all, I don't want to disgust people with my disfigurement. “That's good Fang; now you will feel a tightness when I'm closing the clamps. Don't be alarmed.”

 

Burns came to me, removing the respirator after shutting it off, and he brought the prosthetic to my beak. I hinged my bottom jaw for him to access it. He began to close the clamps; it did feel tight at first. After the last clamp was closed, the tightness left. Dr. Burns stepped back and brought a small mirror to me. I saw my reflection, my hair was slightly undone, and there were small bags under my eyes. Then I saw my beak. It didn't look normal; you could tell it was fake. But it was better than nothing.

 

“Now what do you say, Fang?” Asked Dr. Burns.

 

I looked at him quizzically. What does he– I gave myself a mental facepalm as I found out what he meant. “Thank you, Doctor,” I finally responded.

 

Burns nodded before he spoke, “Your welcome. Now your exercise regimen will be three times a day at 9 AM, 1 PM, and 6 PM. Each exercise will be 15 minutes long, and we won't fully know how long it might take until we start to see improvement. Just for today, we will do one at 2 PM to get you acquainted.”

 

“Yes, Dr. Burns.”

 

Burns nodded and left the room. I was once again left alone with my thoughts and a silently playing radio. I was somewhat ecstatic that I could speak properly again; If it wasn't for the fact that I was a horrible person. I still remember the feeling of pure bliss washing over me shortly after I turned Naomi into a faceless corpse. And the intensity of it grew as I killed more and more of my classmates. Even when I shot Naser, it was at its peak. If Anon survived… could Naser still be alive? It's a stretch, considering the fact Burns did not mention him. Naser deserved a better sister and not some monster.

 

Then I heard a commotion outside. It was silent at first but became louder as it came closer.

 

“Ma’am, if you would please–”

 

“ You would dare stop me from getting to my child!? ”

 

Oh no…Mom!? How would I talk to her? ‘Oh, hello dear mother; by the way, sorry I shot up my school and my dear brother and became a national reject in the process!’ I don't know what to say to her. I hope Dad isnt with her. The door swung open; I managed to glance over before my mother ran full tilt into me. She hugged me tightly, and as she did I felt the screw's presence in my ribs. She sobbed heavily as she began spouting incoherent apologies.

 

“ Imsorryimsorryimsorrymybaby— ”

 

She continued for a solid minute before calming down enough to let go of me and hold my hand gently. I looked away from her eyes. I felt pure guilt wash over me when my mother looked at my face. I felt her hand brush my cheek. Why is she being nice? I found the courage to look at her face. She looked like she hadn't slept in a long time. She even looked worried. I felt sadness well up within me as my bottom lip quivered. Maybe she knows about what happened to Naser.

 

“M- Mom?” I asked cautiously.

 

“Yes, dearie?” Her voice was weak and weary.

 

I choked back my tears as I asked, “Where is Naser?”

 

She looked at me for a moment; she seemed distant. She buried her head in my shoulder, crying as she did. Mom responded shortly after.

 

“Naser is– has gone to a better place…”

 

Each word became more broken and sad as Mom began weeping into my shoulder as she used her wings to cover the both of us. I had hoped that Naser might be still alive, but now I see it was misplaced. The tears that I held back finally spilled. I managed to get my arm around my mother as I buried my head next to hers.

 

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt him. You h-have to believe me.”

 

“I know dearie, I- I know.”

 

We both wallowed in our pity for what seemed like hours. Mom finally stood up and gave me a weak smile. Is she… not mad at me? She then moved her hand to my false beak, feeling its texture. Her smile wavered a bit as she returned her hand.

 

“Almost looks like nothing happened to your beak Fang .” Wait– Fang?

 

“Fang?” I asked her. She looked at me, and her smile grew a little stronger.

 

“Yes, silly! That's your name, isnt it?” Ok? This is strange.

 

“I mean yes, but you’ve always called me Lucy.”

 

Mom giggled a bit… Okay? That was eerie. I don't know how well she is handling all this news. I could only imagine how Dad might be handling it.

 

“I know, but your non-binary, so I have to use your androgynous name!”

 

You know. If this was before I shot up the school. I would've been excited about this. But this is making me worried about Mom. Before I could protest about her preferred way to address me, she spoke up.

 

“Oh! Daddy is right outside. It's good to know you're in good hands, Fang. Whenever you want me to come over, just have the nice Nurse call for me, ok?”

 

Wait, Dad is here!? Out of all the people I'm least prepared to talk to. Dad is on the very top. Before I could respond, Mom already made her way out… The door stayed open as a large figure moves into the room. I looked at him in adjunct horror as the guilt I felt went to its peak. It was Dad; his face was stone cold as he looked at my eyes. He looked even more tired than Mom. I must’ve given him hell at his job and in the family. I froze; I didn’t know what to say as he stood there, unblinking, unmoving, and unfeeling. I looked away as the guilt spread to my face. I tried to form a sentence, anything to say to him.

 

“I- I’m sorry, Dad… Oh god, I’m so sorry… I’m-” I could speak no more as my words became choked sobs.

 

It was a long time before he did anything. Once he did, he just left the room; his wings were drooped, and his shoulders sunken. I had failed him as a daughter. He made sure I knew it. I lay on the hospital bed, cursed with the feeling of guilt that washed over me. All this for petty revenge… How miserable I must be. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye, a shadow moved. I quickly looked at it. Whatever it was, it was gone. Great… now I'm seeing things.

 

—A few hours later—

 

The door opened in my room as Dr. Burns, Becky, and another nurse entered. Carrying what looked like an oversized rubber band and a pole. The nurses put the pole on a stand beside the bed as Dr. Burns writes on a notepad.

 

“Okay Fang. How are you doing this afternoon?” Dr. Burns asked.

 

In all honesty, not so great. Saw my Mom again, who might’ve become delusional. And Dad is disappointed in me. And there might be a pending court case that I need to attend in the future where they immediately throw me in a dark cell where I will live for the rest of my life. Overall, “...Fine…”

 

The doctor paused his writing for a few short seconds before resuming, “Okay… That's good to hear.”

 

The nurses finished setting up the pole with the rubber band thing. Dr. Burns sets the notepad down as he begins to address me. “Well Fang, it's time to show you the training regimen we prepared for you. We’ve prepared a series of stretches, massages, and items that will help you regain muscle mass. This item here which looks like an oversized rubberband is a band restrictor that we will use for your arm.”

 

A band restrictor… Sounds cool, I guess. They adjusted the bed so I was sitting up. One of the nurses gently stretched my arm to the restrictor; my hand clasped around the band as the nurses let go. “Good; now you will be pulling on the restrictor as best as you can; while the nurses stretch out and massage your limbs.”

 

Sounds easy. I began to pull on– huh? The restrictor is not moving. I put more effort into pulling on the restrictor, and it finally budged. My arm felt like it was on fire as I finished one rep. This might be harder than I thought. One of the nurses stretched out my wings and massaged them for a few minutes. While Nurse Becky bent my left leg forward and backward. My left leg moving around was somewhat painful. While I was pulling as much as I could on the restrictor.

 

About 10 minutes passed as I felt the effort get put into my limbs. The nurses stopped the exercises on my limbs as they switched to a different position. They had me stop doing reps. Then one of them adjusted the bed so I was laying flat. Then they lifted me to be sitting up without adjusting the bed as they bent me forward. I felt my spine pop in multiple places as I got stretched forward. Then the nurses laid me flat on my back and repeated the process. It felt uncomfortable as the nurses did these stretches on me.

 

Finally, after five minutes, I was adjusted to a comfortable position on the bed. I felt sore from those exercises. Dr. Burns writes on the notepad (As always) before speaking.

 

“Aaaand that is the exercise you will be given for some time. They might increase in intensity as we go on, but it's worth it every step of the way. Tomorrow we begin the full regimen. We also prepared a meal plan to go along with your regimen; this meal plan will help your muscles grow better with proper nutrients. And not to mention, you won't be getting a meal from a tube from now on!”

 

Well… at least that's some good news for today.

 

—6 Days Later—

 

I woke in a cold sweat as I jolted up from my sleep. Pain sears through my weak spine from my sudden movement. I winced as I collapsed back on the bed. The same nightmare as the previous nights. A dark hallway in Volcano High. Then I get stalked by a distant figure that slowly creeps closer each night. Then the nightmare ends with me falling through the floor. These nightmares happened after Mom and Dad visited me. Now I'm starting to wish for a good night's sleep.

 

At least I’m still alive.

 

I glance at the clock, 5:21 AM. Breakfast won't be here until 7:30 AM. I’m not exactly a big fan of bland pancakes and even blander sausages. The exercises were getting slightly easier to do now; they even had to use a stronger restrictor band. But I’m looking forward to today. Because today is the day Anon gets discharged from the hospital, meaning he could visit me today! I’ve heard the news about my… shooting. The public hailed Anon as the hero for selflessly stopping the mass shooter (Me) from causing more chaos. While taking a bullet to the leg in the process. The media portrayed me as the worst of the worst. I don't blame them… After what I did, I would’ve gladly taken the death penalty.

 

Since the news reached national headlines, a surge of anti-gun protests hit the nation. The city hit the hardest was Volcedera Bluffs. What's even worse was the court decided to continue without me, probably in an attempt to appease the public. My Dad, funnily enough, got me a lawyer from New Mexico of all places. The lawyer visited me yesterday; he is a casual but bold raptor, wearing probably the worst color combination for his suit, dress shirt, and tie; in existence. He made the empty promise of getting me out of the life sentence.

 

For a criminal defense lawyer, He looked like he knew what he was doing. I doubt any kind of defense would get me out of the ditch I dug myself into. And what's worse, I forgot his name… He did have a jingle for his firm though. ‘Better safe than sorry. That's my motto.’ Wait, he gave me his business card. I picked up the card from the table to my left. It read, ‘In legal trouble? Better call Paul! Paul Saurman Albuquerque, NM.’ That's his name, Paul Saurman. I wonder what my dad saw in him to be my lawyer.

 

Despite Paul being my visitor; for the past six days. No one else visited me. Not Reed, not Trish, not even Sage. Do I scare them that much? I– I’m sure they have their reasons for not visiting me. I checked the time, 7:21 AM. Time sure does seem to fly when I’m not looking.

 

— A few hours later—

 

“Time! That's the 2nd round of exercises done for today.” Dr. Burns said as the nurses stopped stretching my torso.

 

The feeling of soreness that ached my body wasn't as bad as it was last week. Dr. Burns walked up to me as I settled back onto the bed. “We got good news Fang! Your muscle mass is starting to return. We might be done with your exercises in about three weeks. In the meantime, someone is here to see you.”

 

The door leading into the room opened to reveal a bald human with crutches limping his way into the room. He looked straight at me and froze. He seemed surprised for a moment as if he wasn't expecting something.

 

“Anon?” I spoke to him.

 

Anon snapped out of whatever he was thinking and turned to the doctor. “Hey, Doc… do you mind if you give us some privacy?”

 

Dr. Burns nodded, “Sure.” as he left the room, leaving me alone with Anon.

 

We waited in silence before we did anything. Anon began to limp toward me, almost like he… did on the rooftop. Suddenly I'm no longer in the hospital room. I’m back on the rooftop. Anon is limping toward me; his leg had been shot. Oh God, no, stay away! Anon kept limping to me. His leg gave in as he fell. Even that didn’t stop him; he resorted to crawling. No, This isnt real; I’m at the hospital. I’m not on the rooftop; I’m in the hospital. I'm not on the rooftop, imnotontherooftopimnotontherooftopIMNOTONTHEROOFTOPIMNOTONTH—

 

“Fang!?”

 

“IM NOT On the- roo ftop…? ” Anon's voice snapped me out of my trance. I found myself curled up into a ball on the bed, holding onto my head with tears streaming from my eyes. My recovering muscles are screaming in pain as I assume the uncomfortable position; I attempted to move, but I feel as if I'm locked in place. My body was facing Anon; concern was etched onto his tired face. “ An– on? ” I quietly whimpered.

 

I saw Anon had pulled up a chair to sit next to me. He put his hand on top of mine as his hazel eyes scanned mine. What does he see in me? Some broken mess? A monster? The person who betrayed his trust and used him like a– “I’m sorry…”

 

…What? I had almost thought I said that. Then Anon continued, “I’m sorry for not being there for you. I’m sorry for not helping you in your darkest moments. And I’m sorry for being a terrible boyfriend to you. There is no excuse for that.” Anon was acting… different than normal. It sounded like he changed in some way.

 

“Fang…” He said with a weak smile and misty eyes. “... I promise you, I will be there for you. I will help you in your darkest moments. And I will be the best fucking boyfriend you ever had. From here on out.” It was sweet of him to say that, but it made the guilt of what I did to him worse.

 

“Anon?...” Anon perked his head up, giving me his full attention. “I must apologize too…” He looked confused at first before realizing what I was referring to. “Oh! Fang, there is nothing you should apologize for–”

 

“But I must, Anon… I apologize for shooting you. I apologize for using you the night before that day. And I apologize for being such a shitty-”

 

“Whoa, Fang!” Anon interjected. “You are not a shitty girlfriend… Er– partner. You were always the highlight of my day; I almost couldn't imagine any day without you. Now that night… I’m not gonna lie; I had nightmares about it. The nightmares were about things I should've done differently, no matter how small or big it was. But no matter what I did, that day happened anyways.” I felt the guilt swell within me as he said that. I wanted to ensure that he would stay at his place, maybe even make the night special.

 

But I used him, and he knows it. Instead, he is beating himself up over what I did. Anon continued, “Now, about the leg. I know you didn’t recognize me when I touched your shoulder. The doctors say it's not permanent, but it will take half a year to heal. And even then, they’re unsure if I could walk without a cane. I don't hold it against you Fang.”

 

I looked at him; what was so different about him? Why would he forgive me for nearly killing him? “Fang…” He said as he brushed my hair. His lips curved into a warm smile as a single tear fell from his eye. “...No matter what happens, or what has happened, I still love you.”

 

His words were soothing to my mind. I slowly unfurled my body to a more comfortable position. He examined my fake beak, “To be honest, I thought you didn’t have one of these on. I was confused when I saw your snoot was still there.”

 

Did he call my beak a… Dammit Anon, “It's a beak dweeb.”

 

Anon looked confused before his smile grew wider. “Nah… Snoot sounds better. And also,” He raised a finger, “Anon, I swear if you–”

 

It was too late; he landed the finger on the tip of my false beak. “Boop.”

 

I felt my face flush as I pouted. The pout slowly dissipated into a smile. The first smile I had since I came to. Anon noticed. “There's that award-winning smile," he mumbled.

 

Even after being shot in the leg, he still mumbles. “Mumbling…” I said to him. He put a hand behind his head.

 

“Yeah, sorry.” He apologized sheepishly. Anon's smile wavered as he saw my missing arm. He raised his hand slightly before stopping and switching his gaze to me. “May I?” I knew what he meant. “Sure.” He slowly put his hand on the smooth area where my arm used to be. He was gentle as he rubbed it slightly. “Does it hurt?”

 

“No, but I feel it. It's hard to describe, but it's like my arm never left.” Anon nodded as he pulled his arm back. “And the same thing goes for my leg,” I added; Anon looked hurt as I said that. “Hey… Don't blame yourself for what I did.” Anon turned to me. “I know… It's just that I don't want you to go to prison like this.”

 

“Who said I was going to prison?” I asked; Anon shook his head as he began to cradle it. “Anon? What's wrong?”

 

Anon snapped out of it. “Nothing, it’s— No… It's not nothing,” Anon put his hands on mine. “I saw what they did to you. When you fell, I managed to crawl to the edge. I wanted to see if you were somehow still alive. I saw y- you’re broken body on the concrete. There was so much blood; I thought you died. Then you started moving; I was amazed that you survived. Then the students that left the building grouped up around you. They were saying something, but I couldn't hear. At first, I thought that they were helping you. When I saw you trying to get up… They… those fucking bastards forced you down,”

 

Anon began to scowl as he rehearsed the beating I took. “And they just started kicking you; I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I tried to yell at them to stop, but none of them did. I saw one of them stomp on your… your–” Anon couldn't speak about what they stomped on. “-I felt helpless as I watched them. I tried to think of anything to stop them. That's when—” Anon stopped himself.

 

He looked distant. “Anon?” Yet again, he snapped out of it. “Huh? Oh, sorry. I was lost in the moment. Yea… That’s when I realized I couldn’t do anything. The SWAT team arrived and got me out; I passed out as they patched up my leg. Nine hours later, I woke up. I kept asking about how you were doing every day every week. The day they told me you woke up was the greatest day I ever experienced.” He said with a weak smile.

 

My heart warmed as he said that. Anon slowly let go of my hand as he got up. While he used his crutches to help himself up in the process. “Sorry Fang, I gotta get going. I promise I will visit you as much as I can.” Anon leaned in and kissed me on the forehead. “I love you.” He softly whispered as he made his way to the door. “You too,” I said as he left the room. Yet again, I was left alone. He had changed since we last met. Not on the rooftop. Not on that night or the night before. But at the museum, he looked like he didn’t want to be there the entire time, especially at the showing. It’s like he wanted to be… less dickish?

 

Whatever the reason, he seemed to have thought about it. After all, he did have all the time in the world to think about it. I could only imagine what would’ve happened to him if I did die. But what matters now is the fact I didn’t die.

 

—A few hours later—

 

The Nurse shut the main lights off at; 10 PM, which was the hospital's rule for every patient to be asleep, if they wanted to. I know full well that the nightmare might come back again. Should I sleep tonight? As the Nurse left, I attempted to stay up; I left the TV on to help me with that. I didn't want to have that nightmare again. I closed my eyes as I shook my head. I wished I could sleep in peace for once.

 

I opened my eyes. I was back at school; the hallways were dark, but I could still see. It’s this nightmare again, isn’t it? I looked behind me to see a dark figure down the hallway. Strange, it’s further away than I expected. I kept observing the figure; it was getting closer. I began to run. The figure kept pace when I ran. It’s the same nightmare again; the same thing will happen. But… what if… I stopped running. The figure slowed as well. What if I waited for it?

 

So I stopped and waited. It came closer still; I could make out some features. It was a person; they had wings, and one was smaller than- Oh shit, Naser! He walked to me; Naser looked surprised to see me. “Fang? What are you doing this late at school?” I was too surprised to say anything. If anything it seemed like nothing happened to him at all.

 

“Fang, are you good?” I snapped out of it. “Y- Yea… I’m fine.” I responded; Naser nodded “Alright, let's go to the auditorium. We are running late.” Naser took me by the hand and led me through the halls and into the auditorium. As we got closer, the sound of a piano was heard. It sounded distorted like it came through an old movie, and it echoed through the halls. But it sounded familiar; It sounded like–

 

“Alrighty then here we are.” I looked around… it's not the auditorium. I’m in the hallway where- “You killed them.” Naser added to my thoughts. The five corpses lay strewn about; only Nasers body was missing. “Welcome to the stage of your performance Fang!”

 

I looked at Naser, a hole in his chest was there. It was oozing blood. I began panicking. “What? Afraid of a little blood?” Naser asked. Why am I here? Why did he bring me here?! Naser took a step toward me. “Oh god, I'm so sorry.” Then another. “Sorry? Sorry for all those names you called me?” another step. “Sorry for all the trouble you caused me?” Yet another. “Sorry for crippling me!?” He took one last step; we were face to face.

 

“Now Fang…” He grabbed onto my right arm; his eyes were pitch black. “I’ll return the favor.”

 

With a sudden yank, he pulled my arm out of its socket. Pain seared through my body. “You neo-liberal cheapskate!”

 

I fell to my back; he threw my arm to the side as it burst into flames. “You hip-grinding whore!”  He said as he stomped my left kneecap in.

 

“You cross-breeding race traitor!” He yelled as he twisted off my right shin and threw it into the inferno that was my right arm.

 

He walked up to me and straddled me. He reached down and grabbed the front half of my beak. I felt the tension grow intense as he begins to rip it out. “You non-binary fratricidal bitch of a sister!” He said as he ripped off my beak.

 

I opened my eyes. There were tears streaming down my face. Naser… No, that wasn’t Naser. That thing can’t be Naser… can it? I glanced at the clock, 11:21 PM; the TV was still on. I think I’ll stay up for the time being. I settled back on the bed; I noticed something. The chair next to me… It’s occupied.

 

I tried to move my head, but it wouldn’t budge. My body suddenly can’t move. I was able to move my eyes, so I glanced at the person. N- No. It can’t be! Naser leaned in to look at me;  he wore a wicked grin. His eyes were still pitch black, and his mouth was dripping with blood. He croaked one thing before he settled back on the chair with a raspy laugh.

 

“Sweet dreams, Lucy…”