Chapter Text
Her eyes were greeted by a darkness. It lasted for a moment before she was able to make out the dim vision of off white satin hanging over her. Grey fingertips began to scrape against the fabric. Corse long nails scratched and scratched. A noise escapes her and it's unlike any sound she's ever made before. Harsh, wild against her throat, it's a growl. She pushes. She pushes and...
“Rachel?”
She jolts up in her chair. The doctor across from her stares for a second, probably thinking she had just spaced out rather than experienced an involitary memory. Thank God.
He asks his question again.“Who is the person you're looking forward to seeing the most.”
“Probably my mom. I mean, I'm excited to see my dad too, but...” Rachel bit her lip. It was a nervous tick she had. The small, sharp pain would help her focus, but she felt nothing. “I dont feel like I'm ready to go back. Can't I stay here a little longer?”
“You're nervous. You're feeling again. It means you're ready to go back.”
“I'm just afraid of what I might do. What if I -”
“Rachel.” The doctor leaned forward, look of forced encouragement smeared across his face. “Say it now. What are you?”
Rachel rolled her once brown now void of color eyes. “I am a partically deceased syndrome sufferer. And what I did-” She swallows hard at the thought, rushing through the rest “What I did in my untreated state was not my fault.”
“Good.” He gets up, gesturing toward the office door. Rachel follows suit. “I'm sure your parents will be happy to see you. Take care, Rachel. Next!”
Rachel rushes out of the room as the next person brushes past her inside. Waiting along the wall She could see a line that stretched out for hours of others: others like her. Rachel made her way back to her room. The treatment center was like a warehouse* and they were like cattle. Maybe having some space to roam would do her good. Maybe...
PDS sufferers didn't eat, they didn't drink. Due to this they didn't need to urinate or deficate either. But what they could do was breathe. It was what made them the strange beings they were. No blood flow, but oxygen circulating through there lungs regardless. Rachel was thankful for the familiarity of something she once took for granted. They could also sleep. Rachel could do without it. Falling asleep was like being in the ground again. Closing her eyes for the night was like drawing that horendous eggshell sheet over her body again. It was like a trap. The worst part though was disappearance of dreams. They used to be so vivid. Without them was like being dead all over again. That night before her parents came Rachel didn't get any sleep.
“Your parents are here.”
She looked up from her hands to face one of the treatment center employees. She had covered them with makeup along with her face. She was also wearing contacts that mimicked the darkness her irises used to have. She had fallen short of looking normal though. It was artifical, an obvious way to hide: a child behind a curtain with their feet carelessing pocking out underneath.
Rachel stood up, following him out to a the main corridor of the center.
“Rachel!”
Sylvia Stein dropped to her knees and began to cry. She promised herself she wouldn't do that, but her daughter was back. It was a miracle. Her daughter was saved.
“Mom?” She stared at her mother then rushed to help her up. “Mom stop it. You're making a scene.”
“I'm just- I'm so happy you're back, Rachel.”
Rachel couldn't remember ever seeing her mother cry. “Where's dad?”
“You're father's at home. He's-” He hasn't left the house in weeks. “He's sorry he couldn't make it, but you'll see him in a little bit, dear. Come on.” She took Rachel's hand, flinching when she touched the icy skin. “You'll see him when we get home.”