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Pure morning sun blazed on Melissa's blankets and warmed them. At least, she believed it warmed them. She remembered the pleasure of sunlight. So many delicious sensations. Lost. Her face could still experience them, but a face was different. Too fine. Too protected. Melissa hated when things touched her face.
She basked in the sun for an eternity that morning. She forgot about the curious footprints. The block of brilliant light crept across the cloth patterns while she watched. Perhaps, she even dozed.
And in the midst of a dream, something changed. A fog came. And confusion. She stirred and lifted a heavy lid from her eye. No sun. Misty light hung in the room.
Odd. The window was closed.
Melissa blinked, but the blur smeared worse.
Chill air and moisture sprinkled down. Her jaw quivered with cold. Without the respirator filling her mouth, the teeth would've been clicking. Melissa's gaze wandered the room, but her brain lagged. She saw but didn't comprehend. Fear stirred, and disorientation, but the soup smothered them.
Voices broke through. Her mother. Crying. Screaming. At the nurse.
Melissa saw the nurse's eyes. Disembodied. The face bled away in the mist, but the eyes hovered overhead like horrible, glistening suns. They beamed judgment over her white, frigid world.
More yelling. Someone holding her hand.
Melissa gazed down. A shape. Not a person. Like a person. She swam through recollections, which threatened to freeze.
An infusion pump. Yes. Doctors scurrying with no eyes. Only coats and the tips of pens. They were working with the pump. Attacking the infection. More medicines. Coursing down the clear line to her hand. Such a nice hand. A lovely hand.
More crying. More barking voices.
And all while the grotesque suns were blazing.
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