Silent tears trickled down Astrid's face as hollowness consumed her, an incompleteness with an unexplainable origin. She struggled to sit up, but the blanket pressed her limbs into the mattress and her muscles ignored every command to move.

"Please don't try to move," an unfamiliar voice, low but smooth, instructed.

Astrid swallowed, burning eyes pinned shut by invisible weights. "I..."

"Don't try to talk yet; nod if you're in any pain."

No, no pain... just a numbness that had more to do with the feeling of bewildering loss.

"That's good!" He was male and on the younger side, though all of Astrid's previous doctors had been female. "I'm guessing you didn't take your medication again."

When Astrid grunted in response, it felt like sand was stuck in her throat, scratching it raw until it became impossible to swallow. 

Save for the rhythmic click click of the ceiling fan ticking off each passing moment, the room remained silent. 

When she opened her eyes, Astrid immediately identified the dented and yellowing ceiling as her bedroom's. A light blanket was tucked under her chin and water slowly crept down her temples from the damp rag placed on her forehead.

A rustling came from her right and she turned her head, wincing as her ear was smashed against the pillow. The skin on her forehead tingled as the rag slid a little.

Hunched over the records in his hands, the owner of the voice stood facing her; dark eyebrows pulled together over narrow magenta eyes, strands of black hair tumbling over his strong forehead. His long fingers were crisscrossed with scars, his fingernails chewed to the beds.

"Ten mods," he muttered, tapping the papers as he bit his lip.

"Ten too many," she rasped.

His eyes shot to hers and his eyebrows raised. "I wouldn't go that far; some of these you'd be dead without."

She glared at him. "They're killing me."

The lines across his forehead deepened and he turned away.  A few moments later he returned from the bathroom, a plastic cup in hand.

"Your parents are waiting downstairs." He set the cup on the nightstand. "I'm going to prop you up so you can drink this, and then I'll call them up."

Astrid briefly considered protesting, but she only had enough strength to tense as he slid an arm under her shoulders. Gently, he lifted her up, stacking more pillows behind her. The sterile, bleachy smell of hospitals mixed with rain and rusting metal wrapped around her, and she inhaled sharply.

"There," he said, releasing her.

 Grabbing the cup he offered shaking hands, she gulped its contents down. "Thanks."

He nodded, gaze meeting hers briefly before flitting away to something Astrid couldn't see. "You're welcome; I'm going to let your parents know you're awake."

As his footsteps faded away, muffled by the carpet, Astrid let her head fall back, ears ringing.

I just can't die, can I?

This had probably been her thirtieth episode, though she'd stopped counting long ago. They'd been worse when she younger, before anybody had discovered her allergy to the mods—rare, almost completely unheard of, even since the exhaustive research of the grafting process. But for some reason, Astrid's body refused to accept the mods, fighting to destroy them.

Removing the mods wouldn't have been that big of an issue if she didn't need four of them to live. She'd never seen her mod chart, so she didn't know what mods she had, other than the ones clearly visible: the waist-length pale rose hair, russet fox ears, golden eyes that brought enhanced vision, and a chip embedded right in her temple.

That chip was the only mod she'd never hated at some point. She hadn't been able to hear with the ears she'd been born with, and the ears she'd been given had major drawbacks. The biggest of all was that she could never listen to music with earbuds or headphones. But the chip, her only escape...the chip played music in her head. 

Gasping sobs jerked Astrid back to the present and her eyes flew open.

"Astrid, we were so worried!" Her mother's face was pale, mascara streaked from the corner of her bloodshot eyes. Running forward, she pulled her daughter into an embrace.

Astrid stiffened as Evelyn Rytron squeezed her and kissed the top of her head, all the while murmuring incoherently into her tangled hair.  

"You can't keep forgetting to take your medicine! This is serious!" her father admonished.

Astrid's stiff fingers curled into fists again, a throbbing spreading across her knuckles. Don't you think I know that?

Her mother finally let go, stepping back and wiping her eyes. But her father made no move to touch her, disapproving glare boring a hole through her skull 

"I've looked through her mod list," the doctor said, waving the sheath of papers. "She has hardly any, which is good considering her unstable condition. But...have you ever considered surgery to remove them?"

Evelyn exchanged a glance with her husband. "Yes."

"And is that something you might follow through on?" The doctor raised an eyebrow.

Another pause. "No."

"I see." He pursed his lips. "Currently, she's on medication to keep her stable, but it's not going to solve this problem; just delay it for a little while, slow down the process. It's only going to get worse, and the only viable solution is removal of the mods."

Astrid sucked in a breath, holding it until her lungs burned. The only thing I've wanted from the start.

"No, we can't do that!" Fresh tears formed in Evelyn's eyes. "She needs them to live!"

"Not all of them, she doesn't."

"Doctor, can we talk about this downstairs?" Astrid's father broke in. "My daughter needs to rest."

Even though she knew he wouldn't hurt her, Astrid shrank back at the aura of irritation emanating from her father. The wrinkles between his brows were visible and a vein stretching from his neck across his jaw bulged.

"Fine." The doctor nodded. "But you should really think more about the impact these mods are having on your daughter's health."

"We did."

A burning consumed Astrid's chest, black spots floating in her vision. She needed to remain calm; at least the doctor didn't seem to be buying any of her parents' excuses.

Without even so much as another glance in her direction, Mr. Rytron turned on his heel and marched out, Evelyn following as though they were glued together. The doctor sighed, tensed shoulders dropping a little as he snatched the battered briefcase from the desk.

So tired. Astrid struggled to keep her eyes open, ears straining to make sense of the murmurs drifting up the stairway. But eventually, the soft hum of the air conditioner blended with the voices into a lullaby and she drifted into restless nothingness.

*****

"Wake up, Astrid; you need to take your medicine."

Astrid blinked, colors and undiscernable shapes swimming before her eyes. Finally, the swirls straightened themselves out, edges sharpening until they became solid lines. Evelyn stood next to the bed, clutching an orange pill bottle and staring at her daughter as though the slightest whisper of a breeze might shatter her.

Her mother's eyes were shiny with tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. Astrid looked away. "I need water."

"Oh, okay, I'll get some, just hang on." Evelyn scurried toward the bathroom, causing her many golden bracelets to jingle and clank.

What's wrong with her? Her mother was just as pale--if not paler--than yesterday, and certainly more on edge. Makeup, usually meticulously applied and blended, formed stark, skeletal lines across her face. And her long locks were uncombed and dull.

"Okay, take it." She shoved the cup into Astrid's hands and struggled to take the lid off of the pill bottle. "Here."

Astrid took the pill from Evelyn's sweaty palm and tossed into her mouth. 

"Is this a new medication?" she asked after swallowing it with water.

Evelyn nodded. "Yes. I mean, no. It's... It's a stronger dose to help get things back under control."

A stronger dose means stronger side effects. It took everything to not be crippled by the helplessness pressing down on her.

"I ... I see. Is the doctor going to come back to check up on me, or..."

"Doctor Ares wants us to bring you to the clinic tomorrow." Evelyn's eyes slid away, the corners of her mouth turning down. "We'll discuss things further with him then."

Tugging the sheets up higher, Astrid tucked them under her armpits. "Like surgery?"

"No, no!" She shook her head adamantly, panic twisting her face into a grotesque expression. "No surgeries."

Astrid's jaw dropped. "You won't even consider it? Mom, what is wrong with you?"

"No, what's wrong with you?! Don't you understand, Astrid?"

She was crying again.

Of course. Like it's her life and she's the victim.

"No, you don't understand! I hate the meds! The times I don't take them are the days I can actually think, I can actually feel things!" Astrid yelled, flinging the paper cup away, drops of water speckling the carpet.

Evelyn blinked, jaw slack for only a second before her lips drew into a thin line, features hardening to stone. "You're unstable without your medications. Those so-called 'emotions' and 'clear thinking' are an illusion. How many holes have you punched in the wall?"

"Not nearly enough!"

"Don't talk to me like that!"

"Don't try to control my life!" 

Evelyn froze, unblinking. "It's...It's for your own good," she whispered.

"That's what you always say!"

She didn't move. "You're alive, aren't you?"

What kind of life is this? But Astrid bit her lip and turned her head away. Arguing would get her nowhere, and only destroy the last shred of sanity she clung to.