The Anthem of the Castaway

Antibiotics

I come around again to find the lady in my cell again with a tray of food. She nods to me and picks up the syringe off the floor. Feeling defeated, I don't sit up.

'Come on, you need to eat something. You're starving.' She tells me through a mind link.

When I don't respond, she leans down and looks into my eyes.

'You're sober and I know it. Come on.' She says. I still don't respond, so she crosses her arms and looks at me. 'I will force you upright if you don't listen.'

I finally sit upright, the sore muscles in my body protesting the whole way. I start coughing and my tongue is met with a metallic taste. I take a small piece of bread and chew on it for a while, pretending that I'm eating when I'm really not. I cough again, surprised at how much blood there is this time that comes up. Am I not healing like I thought I was?

She looks at me carefully.

'Have you given up?' She asks. I nod softly, not meeting her gaze.

'All we can do is make you healthy. I don't want the conscious of a sick prisoner on my hands."

I close my eyes and set the piece of bread back down. I feel tired.

'Are you going through drug withdrawals?' She asks me. I shake my head.

'Do you want any more drugs?'

'No more. Please.' I beg. At this point I feel on the verge of breaking, and I know that any more drugs or disapproval from Father would push me over the edge.

'Here, then eat your food. Let me know if you change your mind. Remember, we only want you happy here.'

I remain sitting up with my eyes closed, not wanting to eat. She eventually leaves, so I lay back down.

'Don't give up.' I hear in my head from Father.

'Why? You've made it obvious that I'm just a failure.'

'I expect you to be strong. It hurts to see you weak like this.'

'From the last war fought it seems like you wanted me to be weak anyways.'

'That's not how it went and you know that.' He counters, giving a very valid point.

I fall silent, slightly regretting my actions from before. I wish he didn't have such high expectations for me.

'You promised you would be more understanding. Why do you expect me to be perfect all the time?' I ask him.

'I don't know. I'm sorry. I know I've always been hard on you. I just want you to be strong and it hurts to see you like this.'

His words make me feel hopeful for a moment that he is truly sorry, but I think back to the torture he subjected me to when I betrayed him.

I cough again and am rewarded with more blood in my mouth. Why am I coughing up blood again? I try to ignore the slight feeling of drowning, then eventually I fall asleep.

I awake feeling intense pain in my chest. This time when I cough, I not only taste blood, but infection as well. I feel weaker than before as well.

As if on cue, the woman comes back. She takes one look at me and gets concerned. She sets down the tray of food by the uneaten one from before and comes to my side. She puts her hand on my forehead for a second, then shakes her head. I pull the blanket up to my neck, feeling a chill come across me.

'What's wrong?' She asks me.

'I don't know.' I respond.

'Angels don't just get sick. Do you have any pain?'

'Some in my chest.'

'Do you have any other symptoms? Coughing, upset stomach?'

'I've coughed up blood a few times.' I admit.

'Anything else?' She persists. I shake my head in response.

She looks at me again then leaves my cell. I look back at my wings to find the black feathers rough and dull.

'Are you breaking?' Father asks, watching as I examine my once-perfect wings.

'No. I'm coughing up blood again.' I tell him.

'There's something worse going on. An infection?'

'Yeah, I think so. I could taste it last time I coughed.' I tell him. My head starts hurting from the conversation, adding to my miseries.

'We need to make sure you don't die. We don't know if you'll come back with extra wings.'

'Agreed.' I respond simply.

He doesn't say anymore, so I once again slip off into a dreamless sleep.

I awake to find the woman injecting something into my arm. Could it be more drugs?

'What is that?' I ask her. I feel more tired and drained than I did before.

'Antibiotics. You have an infection. This will hopefully clear it up.' She tells me.

I feel the antibiotics burn slightly in my flesh, but it dissipates quickly. I can only hope that the treatment works.

Once again, I drift off to sleep, but this time there are more nightmares.

The tearing of flesh. Chanting of demons and angels.

"Serves her right!" Someone yells.

"Tear them off!" Another yells.

I can barely breathe, having been suspended by my arms.

Red hot pain.

Pain.