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Metal heart

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The flash of the scalpel, the bright lights of the operation room blinding her. She remembered the hoards of nurses and doctors surrounding her, with instruments poised. Most of all, she remembered what caused her to be in this empty place. She had gone for a heart transplant, for a metal heart, the operation failed.
She felt immense pain. Her metal heart was bleeding, she felt pain. Dark red blood scoring the metal, devouring it, almost immediately the metal turned brown with rust, the screws turned slower, the mechanisms jamming up. She knew it was only a few minutes before it stopped beating. She sort of knew what was going on, it was not her first time, but that time, her heart was not artificial.
She felt noises around her. There were people screaming, calling the nurse, calling the doctors. She sort of caught snippets of conversations, “She’s acting up again!”, “She almost couldn’t make it the first time, are you sure you want to risk it again?”... How funny, she felt like she was playing hide and seek, she was hidden somewhere quietly, when people were rushing all around her. She could not see them, could they see her? She could only hear, but their voices were all so muffled and soft.
There, she felt the bright lights again, was she in heaven? Was she dead, but if so then why could she still not open her eyes? Would Jesus forgive her for having a metal heart? Was she pure enough for heaven? But it was not her fault, she was not the one who put it in.
Then for the first time in a long time, she felt determination, it was a sticky, slimy feeling, she had not felt this way for a long time. It seemed like she could finally feel her fingers, her arms her legs! She felt very eager; change was very welcome in her life. It's time to roll the dice; it’s not over till it's over. Hang on till the end, you were born to win.





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