012 (I)
The Art of Truth and Lies[CONTENTID1]
012
♪ INTERLUDE ♪
Quod vero nocet.
[/CONTENTID1]
[CONTENTID2]
When I finally came to, a symphony of noises surrounded me. The soft, methodical beeps which the machines emitted, doctors discussing something I was unsure of, and my mother crying.
My mother, crying? I wondered if it was really her, and it was this curiosity seemed to awake me from what seemed like an endless slumber.
At first, the lids of my eyes felt like bricks–I could hardly open them. It took a couple months for them to open and close with little trouble.
The first thing I remember seeing was light, an indiscernable blob of white light.
Then, doctors in all their white coats, checking my vitals, asking if I could hear them.
It seemed natural to open my mouth and explain that, yes, I was alive and could hear them very clearly. Yet, when I did so, my mouth felt like it was moving but no sound slipped through my lips.
My mother's cries grew louder, and I wondered why. Perhaps it was because I would not be able to go to this competition?
Sobbing, she screamed something indistinguishable as the doctors asked her to calm down, telling her that it wasn't the end of the world, at least I was alive. She seemed
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