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The Procedure
He was paralyzed. He tried lifting his arms and legs but they wouldn't move, he had no control over them. He was lying on something flat, hard and cold. So cold it felt like steel that had been buried in snow. His back and shoulders hurt because of it. He tried sitting up but couldn't do that either, it seemed his whole body was chained down, but he couldn't feel any chains around his arms, legs or torso as he sluggishly struggled to free himself. He had no clothes on, he was completely naked. He searched his mind in frustration, trying desperately to remember how he had ended up here. In this strange place. In this strange situation. But he wasn't surprised when he couldn't recall anything. All his life he'd had a terrible memory, in general a sad excuse for a mind. He couldn't expect his brain to help him now, when it had only ever been a problem itself. He needed his body, that he knew he could always rely on, his physical strength, his only strength. His frustration grew the more he tried to move and couldn't. He heard voices in the distance. They had an echoing quality to them as if he was standing at the bottom of a cliff listening to someone shouting at him from the top. He needed to see where he was but his eyelids felt heavy as lead and he couldn't open them. Cold air washed over his face. He heard gentle, unhurried footsteps, getting closer. Then he felt a hand close around his left wrist and a few seconds later a sharp pain in his forearm. It lasted just a fraction of a second, it felt like a needle and he started to panic, but before he could process his fear of what was happening to him, a calmness so complete took over, and he gave in to the feeling. The hand around his wrist let go, then he felt a palm on his forehead, and a kind voice whispered in his ear as he surrendered to the alluring call of peaceful slumber, “There you go, just relax, it will all be over soon”

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© Susanna Perumal