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Prologue

When I gain consciousness, the first thing I can feel is the taste of blood in my mouth and its smell in the insides of my nose. My breathing is odd, and my eyes are only half open. It takes me a while to make out which position I'm in right now: I'm lying on my back, though there's no telling whether what's below me is soft or hard. The little I can see and hear feels like everything.

It's all and it's nothing, at the same time. There's light but also dark, loud noise but also silence. And all the things in between, too. Everything is simultaneous and desperating; and everything feels like a plan to stop me from breathing.

I try to get up, but no use. Everything hurts. I would say that what just came out of my mouth was a groan, but I couldn't hear it so much as feel it leaving my throat.

I fall on my side, and everything still hurts. My insides are throbbing, while my outside feels as though it's being swallowed by something empty. There's pain coming from my chest, making its way up the back of my neck and stopping at my eyes. My eyes—what is this—are they about to pop out? Would it be a relief or just add to the pain?

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Throbbing, and throbbing, and throbbing. I don't think this will stop any time soon. I feel a sudden urge to die.

I want to die.

I want to die, but what if I'm already dead? Is this what death feels like…?

Someone—anyone, anyone really—come and take me.

I think I'm crying. Whatever is coming out of my eyes is warm and almost comforting. My sight is blurry.

I manage to hold out my hand before my face. Doing this makes me groan again, an empty sound. What I see is to be expected, I think… One of my fingers is broken in what appears to be close to a ninety-degree angle… my knuckles are swollen… the hand is almost entirely purple, except where it shows shades of red and pink I've never seen before. There's a big cut and my veins feel like they're popping out.

...how am I conscious? I think. What is this place, and how did I...

…I have to get out of h…

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