Entry 8: Concerning the scars around my mouth- continued.

I woke to gauze all around my mouth, unable to breath. I had to take a breath through my nose and it was connected to an oxygen machine. I could move, but barely.

I remember the surgical lights of the infirmary room. They were cold and blue, but there was so much heat coming off of them. I was scared and when I tried to scream, it came out as a mumble. My lips burnt. I started to cry in pain just to cause more pain.

The nurse realized I was awake, and she rushed into the room, “Sergeant Cartwright,” she whispered, “Please calm down. You can’t move your lips… I’m going to give you more sedative. When you wake up, you won’t be here. Ithaca has been compromised.”

She took out a needle, and I struggled, but it only lasted until the world went black again. The next time I woke I was in a different room, metallic, cold. I could breath through my mouth, and it was sensitive.

Spikes of weird nerve damage flared with each breath I took. Dead-nerve, trying to feel. I didn’t know that then, but I stood, and I stumbled towards the nearest room. The bathroom, and the mirror had been smeared so it was more opaque and I couldn’t see myself.

I fell on my way out, how long had it been since I used my legs? I opened the door, and when I exited the first person that saw me was a private, and they gasped. I looked down, I remember the blue floral print on the hospital gown, and I remember the look in their eyes as they recoiled from me.

“What?” I choked out. How long had it been since I spoke? The private walked away was quickly as they could. I was looking for the nurse. I couldn’t find one.

I stumbled down the hall, clinging to the walls. When I finally found another person, I looked at them, “Show me a mirror.”

At least it was a private, and he immediately took me to the closest mirror. I looked in quiet disbelief. I ran my fingers over my lips, still sensitive to the touch, the red triangular scars every half and inch. I closed my eyes only for a moment.

I counted them. There were ten, surrounding my lips, except for a small part of my left top lip, and a awkward middle part of my full bottom lip.

I couldn’t stand what I saw, so I screamed. I screamed until my whole body was fatigued, and I collapsed to the floor. My body couldn’t take anymore. I don’t think I’ve eaten anything anytime recently.

The private later told me my scream was the scariest thing he had ever heard in his entire life, and he never wanted to hear anything like it again.