Red Blooded

Chapter 9 - Resurrection

We are human.

That is what we are born as, that is what we should die as. Nothing more. Nothing less. Our DNA is mapped out through history, taking on a different manifestation with every generation born. XX and XY. Not XX/XY plus a few extra chromosomes. That was not how this works.

We are born.

And then we die.

Die.

Was I dying right now?

It felt like it.

My gasping was uncontrollable. The sharp crippling pain in my chest had alerted me to the fact that I neared unconsciousness and needed to act fast if I didn't want to fall and crack my head open. All I could hear was the heavy sounds of my breathing, fast and unkempt. Just the sound set horrible images of death running through my mind.

This was death, right? It had to be. Nothing could be as painful as death - I was sure.

The breath that escaped me was short, labored and heavy - as if I was going into labor. The hands I had placed at either side of me on the counter began to slip. I was slipping. The pain that had suddenly taken over was crippling.

I let out a cry.

"Oh...dear...god." I breathed, panicked as I collapsed to the floor; my knee hitting the tiles hard. My palms rested on the cold marble, supporting me so I kneeled like a dog.

Like a dog.

This is what the dog was doing to me. He was killing me. This had to be part of the transition, it just had to be!

Why wasn't the pain subsiding? Why was I in pain? What did I do to deserve this?

I gasped again.

I wasn't a religious person, but surely it wasn't too late to turn to God....

God, if I survive, I promise I'll do more for charity. I promise I'll be a better human being - as long as I stay human.

I let out another cry, my body convulsed and the air got stuck in my throat.

What did I ever do to YOU?!

I don't drink!

I don't sleep around!

The endless stream of tears poured onto the floor, soaking my neck, my cheeks and my lips.

I was prepared - prepared to let out another scream when...

When...

The pain stopped.

As quick as the pain had come, it had gone.

Still breathing like a pregnant lady, I stayed on all fours on the floor, riding out the aftermath if there would be one. Even through closed lids, my eyes had watered. I felt numb, as if my body had just been electrocuted and was now left in a state of rest before it would surely endure another round of shocks. All I had wanted to do was take my makeup off and brush my hair! Instead, I felt like I had just endured a tug of war match with death himself.

I rose carefully, slowly, dreading any rebuffs that my body had in store for me. I couldn't handle it. My breathing was ragged from having cried so much. I turned to look back into the mirror and burst into tears when I saw the sight of my face. The runny blood from my nose had dripped onto my cheeks and lips, and because I had smudged it across, the crimson red liquid stained my hand. Quickly turning on the faucet, I washed my hands and watched as the swirls of diluted red disappeared into the hole. Every movement I made was deliberately slow. I couldn't afford another relapse, especially because I knew it would cost me my sanity to be in so much agony.