As I walked through the hallway, a chill went up my spine. The blue walls reflected the temperature as I walked. Rooms and rooms passed by me. My mouth was a drought and my stomach a famine. After a long period of silence, I reached for the dull-colored doorknob; slowly turning it as if my muscles was constricted. As I opened it, a woman confronted me along with two other companions. Her presence made me feel short for she was very tall. Her blonde hair was all wrinkled as if it too were aging along with her face. She held the heavy metal door for me.

“Come on in,” she said, gesturing me to go in the room.

Standing there with beads of sweat raining down my face, I felt my face burn. Without a word, the amateur me came out.

“Oh I can see it‘s your first time here, but don‘t be scared. The surgeons here are certified at what they do. Trust me.”

She saw right through me like my feelings was written all over my face. Her words really caught me, but to trust her was like trusting a stranger, which she rather was. Something in her oceanic eyes told me that my destiny was going to turn around and bite me. However, I still drove my body into the room. She closed the heavy metal door and the loud THUD seemed to attract more apprehension into my body.

When I turned around, the mouths of four surgeons were covered with surgical masks, so all that was remained on their face was a pair of eyes. I stood there dumbfounded not knowing what to do.

“Lie down,” came a voice from behind one of the masks.

I sat down on the bed. My legs were heavy weights, but with my strength, I managed to pull them up. My eyes were looking directly at the bright lights above me, almost blinding me. Next to me was a bag of clear liquid attached to a string. On the other side of the string was a small needle. Despite its small size, the needle seemed too overwrought me.

“That anesthesia,” came a sonorous, shallow voice from behind one of the masks. “It‘s used to make you feel as if your asleep. That way you don’t experience the pain.”

Questions started filling my head, but my overcoming shyness told me to keep my mouth shut. One of the surgeons was right next to me and took hold of my left hand. Her gentle grip around my hand made me feel uncomfortable. However, what made me even more awkward was the needle in her other hand. Her grip to the needle was nothing compared to her grip around my hand. She took the needle and deposited it into the vein of my left hand. The sharpness pierced through my skin.

As if a marathon had just begun, pain started to rush through my hand first, leaving it feeling stiff and numb. Then my whole arm started tingling. I knew that the finish line would be my brain. My eyelids began closing like curtains, but only to open up once more. My muscles were swelling and all I could see is the mask of four surgeons looking down at me. Slowly they began to blur into the darkness that eventually filled my thoughts and eyes.

THE END