The Thirst ☾ Rosalie & OPEN
Nights were long, but days were longer.
At night, she could sleep; take one little white pill, and be off in dream land until her alarm went off the next morning. She would sleep the entire day away if she could—her pills made her disoriented and groggy—but there was no way the nurses would allow that. Instead, she was forced to drag her bones through the day’s scheduled activities, stumbling through meaningless conversation.
Her frailness was a pain, but it wasn’t why she wished she could sleep forever. That had nothing to do with the pills, and everything to do with the flesh.
The flesh; it’s soft texture, the way it stretched against bones, the way it gave way with the slightest nick of a knife, a scratch of a fingernail, a tug of the teeth. The beautiful, crimson liquid is what she feared the most, but desired even more.
She had self control, she had to. She had controlled herself through the other patient’s nosebleeds and bloodwork, but it took every ounce of energy to do so. The knowledge that a teaspoon, even a drop, would help heal her fragile bones, her pallid skin, her ailing health…
"Ten minutes left to eat!"
Rosalie snapped out of the trance she had been in, gazing down at the ketchup on her plate. If only it were the wine colored body fluid she desired..
She pushed her food back and forth on her plate, watching as wrinkled peas rolled around the plastic. She twitched as she felt someone sit down at her empty table, raising her eyes to acknowledge the person.
"Hi."