Ninety-Eight

Lenora

I didn't need anyone to tell me that I was dying. This unhealthy condition weakened my body, and my illness had gone full-blown. I'd even become drug-resistant because of it, and the doctors still hadn't come up with something.

Every part of my body ached with painful sores all over my body. It was a horrible, nightmarish mystery that nobody could understand. No amount of medicine I had taken could bring relief from the terrible pain.

All the doctors and nurses did was poke and prod at me in the hopes that they would get some kind of clue and discover a cure for me. My mind, too, had been going through hell, and I wasn't sure whether I should believe my delusions or not.

Never in my life had I felt such intensity of pain in my abdomen. My body was failing me, and I was bleeding from my gastrointestinal tract.

Feeling foggy and attempting to distract myself from the painful discomfort, I lay still. It was almost impossible for me to speak, and I was lying in the dreadful hospita