Survival

"Who is there?" Felicia thought. The ability to transform thoughts into sentences seemed to be stopped by an obstruction in her throat.

She realized she was parched.

There is a smell. Chemical, aseptic, mingled with... blood?

"What happened?" Another unspoken thought.

Suddenly, as if they were there all along, several distinct yet unified voices penetrated her skull.

"Don't fight it," the voices said, then they fell away into individual chatters.

"You wanna bet she won't make it?" a creaky voice. Scrapping with a metallic quality. Unfamiliar to her. Loneliness. Felicia identified the sensation jabbing at her chest.

"My dear, don't fight it; let them do their thing." Gentleness in this one. A calming caress on her forearm and a refreshing feeling flowed into her. Felicia wanted to lean into it. She doesn't know what she is supposed to be letting go of, but she can get on board with this gentle sound.

"Do you want to remember?" the gentle voice again.

"Who are you?" Felicia asked.

"It's better that you don't know us." A high-pitched voice ended with a giggle.

"OUCH!" A sudden, visceral pain churned in her navel area, and she cried out.

"You need to detach, then you can see." The gentle voice said.

"DETACH! DE-TACH!" The voices started chanting.

Suddenly there is light.