CHAPTER 1 — The Only Feeling of Fear Is the Feeling of Fear Itself
When He Appears“Table of contents?... me, no soul to be seen at first but then slowly he comes into view.”A man steps out of the blur — black hair streaked with silver, soft green eyes that look like they’ve lived a thousand years.
I’ve heard of “soft eyes” before, but now I understand them.
I can see straight into his soul.Wires run across my body — green, yellow, red — and one thick grey cable made of three fused together.
Screens inside screens.
Four sets of lines.
I twitch.
I see myself twitch.Doctors everywhere — surgeons with scalpels, lasers, suction tools like the dentist’s office.
All of them working on me.
On my shell.I’m on a gurney.
I don’t feel the wires, but I see them.Darkness.Touch Without FeelingA touch wakes me.
I open my eyes — I see him touching me, but I can’t feel it.Darkness again.My inside voice whispers: Who are you?
I hear myself say it, but no one responds.The TubeA man inserts a long cloudy tube into my mouth.
Time slows, loops, fast‑forwards.
The tube slides deeper, past my throat, toward the cusp of my chest plate.I gasp — only on the inside.A nurse in lavender scrubs stands above me, mask tucked under her chin, brown hair resting on her shoulders.
A younger man hovers over my body — or my shell — in my No‑No squares.I try to speak.
My mouth moves.
My voice stays trapped inside.“I’m here, I’m here… please, please.”I hover above myself, watching my lips wrap around the tube.
Sound fades.
Pressure builds.
No pain.Tunnel VisionBehind glass, three doctors stand elbow‑to‑elbow at a curved table.
Tunnel vision tightens.
My ears pop.“Excuse me, sir! I am asking you a Question! Hello!”No one hears me.Confusion intercepts my entire being.Time of Death“Time of death…”WAIT.My head explodes with pain.
My breathing slows.“Brain damage… most likely quad… she is not going to make it.”Inside, I scream: I’m here! Right here!My body jerks.
Someone shouts: “Z!! That was her — it worked! It fucking worked!”The OR thickens with intensity.
My heart pounds at 134 BPM.
I feel like a cloud that can’t breathe — inhaling acid rain, smothered by a pillow.The GaspThen — a gasp.
Air rushes in, swirling through me like water down a drain but upside down.Dark grey clouds fill my head.I reenter my body.I inhale slowly.
Exhale like it’s my last breath.Silver dots.
Darkness.
Freedom.
No life.
No memory of this lifetime.Then —
Light.AftermathMonths pass “as quickly as leaves fall from a tree.”
I don’t know where I am.
I don’t know how much time has gone by.Machines breathe for me.
I hover above my own body, disgusted, disappointed.I watch my chest cavity rise.
I feel my blood run like a river — not a dry river, a wet river, “just to be clear.”My eyes flutter.
Then — they open.I’m awake.