Tonight I'm freaking out again Tonight I'm thinking so low All I wanted was a friend all I've got is no one Tonight I'll sleep alone I won't sleep at all My heart isn't alive
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Light shown dimly through the closed eyelids of the boy, perched on an operating table. A thin blue sheet was placed over his chest, the fabric having an opening in the center. His breathing was steady, under a mask expelling anesthesia. It was a shame that his eyes were closed, he never really got to see the outside world other than through books, television shows, and the few trips to the doctors office. The gas had made him at the most drowsy, though still aware of his surroundings, the beeping of machines, shuffling feet across the floor. He had been there for some time now on the table, giving no mind to it for he had done this once before, for a liver transplant for his brother. Though...the time before, he had fallen asleep after a short period.
"Yes, its a heart transplant." The boys ears twitched..listening to their procedure.
"..It wont fail. Hes a direct copy." Their voices were muffled behind surgical masks to him.
"This is the reason why he was made, for the two to keep their boy alive."
They were starting to gather around him, he could sense it, though finding out he couldnt open his eyes to see them, or move his hands, fingers, anything. They started cleaning down the center of his ribcage, removing any fur in their way, then the tip of a scalpel making a deep incision line down the boys chest.
He could feel it, a sense of burning pain overwhelming him, his hands trembling now though not able to get up and stop it. He could feel his heartbeat rising, the machines increased their noises, before he knew it his hand had instinctively reached up to the wound, gripping to close it but his fingers dug into the opening instead, feeling flesh and bone.
The doctors stepped back from him, shocked at this and trying to restrain his hands, though all he wanted was to escape. He was able to get to his feet, shaky though steady to scramble away from the table, breaking free of any tubes on him.
The boy was bleeding profusely, though escaping the place only with the gown and fabric on his chest. The pain was still stinging him, but he had to escape before they took his heart. He had to get the wound closed fast, keeping it covered for the most part. Up against a tree outside of the hospital...a black market one it seemed like, he used what little resources he had, an IV still in his arm and using threads of fabric to mostly sew himself shut, laying there and panting, hoping to make it to morning.