32: You Reached Out
She's pleading again
Begging me to fuck her
It's agony
I can't do this
I can't let go
She needs me
I can't
File name: Untold Stories
Passcode: 8675309
My fingers rested on the edge of The Art and Practice of Conception while I sat on a shiki cushion on the floor of my monastery bedroom. I'd been working my way through the erotic exercises outlined in the book, and they'd been exceptionally sensory, but also mystical. The main focus of the book was a ceremonial preparation for working with the mystical force of erotica to conceive a child.
It was a lovely idea, and I'd thought it couldn't hurt to do the solo exercises. But the last time— there had been. . . sadness. I'd thought it was my sadness at first, but there was a whiff of something else— someone else—sad, like perfume on the breeze. My fingers curled into my palm.
I turned my attention to the document opened on my pad in front of me and started writing:
Anxiety— It Happens
I want to tell you a true story about anxiety, and how it's been impacting me. I'm working with it now, and doing better. But I don't have it all together, and I'm a work in progress. You see, for a long time, I think that anxiety was something I didn't want to see. I just shoved it out of my mind and kept myself busy. But one day, I was on a starliner and had a panic attack. If you don't know what that is, well, it was like the walls were closing in on me, and I couldn't breathe. I found a technique that helped, though. It's called Tapping, and I want to tell you about it in case you—
I broke off typing. Incoming transmit from Emergency. Emergency? What was it? Placental abruption? Ovarian torsion? Was I prepping for surgery?
"Dr. Ryst Nova. You are the Emergency Contact for Peydran Madrano. I am calling to inform you that Mr. Madrano is under sedation and is currently en route to Equi University Medical Hospital for emergency cybernetics augmentation."
Peydran.
Amputation.
Peydran.
Cybernetics.
Peydran.
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Left hand.
Peydran.
Surgery.
Peydran.
Suffering.
Peydran.
Pain.
Peydran.
Grief.
Peydran.
Left hand. Programmer. Coder. Keyboards. Typing. No more. His left hand. Augment.
I opened eyes I didn't know were closed, my left hand stretched out in front of me. I marveled at it. I had two hands. Did I know how much they did for me? Always; everyday. Chopping. Grasping. Holding. Touching. Sensing. Reaching.
My left hand reached out, reaching for something unseen. Like the pale naked man in the Sistine Chapel reaching for the grandfather in the sky. Reaching. Reaching out. Peydran would reach out. I would reach back.
Two hands reached in front of me. Patting the air. There was something there. Just beyond reach. I sensed it, but I didn't. I couldn't quite feel it, but I knew it was there. There was something. I needed something. Airship. Airship and Peydran's parents. I was a medica. They'd need help. "I'm coming, Peydran; I won't leave you alone. When you wake up, I'll be there. Even if you have no hand to hold."
I'd stopped pacing. I'd given up on sleeping. Two days had passed; one more to go. I leaned back in my chair with my head against the wall next to Peydran's mother. They had asked me their questions. I'd had answers. I'd helped them through the counseling meetings— the ones for family of cybernetics patients. They were grieved, but they were relieved—their son was alive. That was all that mattered. They didn't quite grasp that he wasn't the son they knew anymore.
My eyes closed, remembering the feeling of being on call as an obgyneca— irregular sleep, weird hours. Not healthy. I needed to rest, but it was hard to relax. Anxiety. Anxiety. Of course I was anxious beyond the stars. Peydran had been in surgery for days, and he would wake up a different person.
I knew what it was like to wake up in the hospital, traumatized. It hadn't been that long ago for me, but It felt like lifetimes. It would be worse for Peydran. Worse physical pain. It would last longer than mine. Worse emotional pain. My body had not been permanently altered. With mechanics. And pain.
From every teardrop
something new is born.
Collected Unpublished Lyrics
- Sibsil Creed, Stories of Shurwinn (2788)
I was curled in a ball, rolling forward. Falling forward through the dark. Always rolling forward. In a ball. Curled up. Rolling—
"Dr. Nova, he's waking up." I startled awake with a jerk. Long time since I'd fallen asleep sitting up in a hospital. It took some time for Peydran's eyes to open.
His mom sat by his hospital bed, holding his right hand. His dad stood next to her, watching their son wake. The head of the bed was raised, and Peydran's left arm and shoulder were in suspension. No movement.
I stood near the foot of the bed, giving his family space. He would see me when he needed to. His eyes flickered.
"Honey, we're here," his mom said. "Peydran, we're here, and we love you. You're going to be okay."
His eyes moved, taking in the room. He drew in a sharp breath and groaned. He curled around himself as much as he could with his left arm in suspension and cried, "Ryst." It was a wail, not a word.
And for the first time since I'd met him, I sensed Pedran. He was agony in my mind and in my body. My whole being clenched with his pain. Then I was on the bed, pulling his head against my chest. I could sense him, and he was pain. His thoughts were wails of terror and horror. Horror and horror and horror.
I let him fall apart, and I caught all the pieces. I loved him. I loved him. All of me wrapped around all of him— my arms, my body, my being, my inner self, my heart, and my soul.
All of my love wrapped around him like a blanket of light to hold the pieces of him as he crumbled apart. I love you. I am here. I am here. I am here. I AM NOT LEAVING.
I don't know how long he wailed. I was there, and I was love. I could feel him in my being and hear him in my mind. We were merged. We merged as one being, and I held him, keeping the pieces of him until he was ready to pick them back up again.
I don't know how long it was. But he stilled. He receded from my mind. My sense of him disappeared, and he slept.
Journal
Ahtah, Just give me a minute to not be strong. To collapse. Can I have that? Something terrible happened. I need a minute. Just need a minute. A minute to fall apart.