The Dream

“This isn’t going to work,” the man insisted, staring down at Catriona, “she isn’t going to wake. We should attempt to save the child.” The girl had been unconscious for over a day now, shallow breathing and a weak pulse the only signs of life. The doctor and his assistant had exhausted every method of reviving the girl—to no avail. 

Catriona was trapped in deep slumber. She felt as though she was swimming underwater, gliding through the water as though she was part of it. It was peaceful, quiet. But she knew she must wake. She must reach the surface of this dream before her sentence was carried out.

A sharp pain forced Catriona to the surface. She opened her eyes, seeing two blurred images hunched over her.  A scream broke through her dry lips, causing the two men to jump back, their surgical tools flying from their hands. Catriona sat up, gasping in horror at the blood that stained her belly. 

“Christ!” The doctor exclaimed as he regained his footing. Catriona looked at him in confusion as she clutched at her wounded body. 
“Let me help you,” the assistant pleaded as he grabbed a clean cloth. He gently replaced Catriona’s hand with his own, applying the pressure needed to cease the bleeding. 

“What have you done to me?” Catriona cried.

“We thought you weren’t going to wake, Miss,” the assistant answered, “we were trying to save your child. Please lay back now.”

Catriona obeyed the man, trying to make sense of her surroundings and how she had come to be there. As she shut her eyes, excruciating pain radiated through her abdomen. This pain was different. It was as though a heated flame had enveloped her womb, forcing her body to respond. 

It was time.  

The End

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