I woke to bright light hovering over my eyes. My head pounded. I felt sick. The light came into focus slowly. I began to realize that I didn't know where I was. Letting out a groan, I tried to roll over. I couldn't. There where straps holding my arms in place. I was wearing a loose fitting hospital like gown. The blinding light became unbearable. It filled my every thought. Absentmindedly, I realized that the light that was hovering over my head wasn't the sun. It was a surgical light. I started to panic. What. Were. They. Going. To. Do? I asked myself over and over again.

I screamed for help. But my voice came as no more than a harsh whisper. My throat was dry. My lips felt chapped. How long had I been trapped here? I screamed again, this time my voice was more powerful. But still, no one came. I stopped struggling. Realizing that the walls were probably sound proof. I wasn't going to escape. And if I died on the operating table, than so be it. At least if I was dead... I wouldn't have to live with whatever they where going to do. I clenched my fists. I didn't want to die here. But maybe, after the, operation... I would wish I had died in the pristine, operating room.

Later, after the headache wore off, a man walked into the room. He wore a white lab coat. His blue eyes were hard and menacing. I tried to get a better look at him. But my head was so tightly bound I couldn't move a muscle. "She'll do nicely," he said, looking at me as if I was a new piece of equipment that he was going to play with. He nodded to the door and an array of nurses came into view. I looked at the assortment of tubes, scalpels and needles they had wheeled in.

I let out a slight whimper. The doctor looked at me, "This isn't going to hurt Griffin," he said. I almost choked on my own spit when he said my name. 'How..?' I wondered before one of the nurses came over with an IV, inserting it into my hand. I winched as the needle slid into my vulnerable skin. I always had hated needles. "Scalpel," the doctor said, I realized that he had a slight accent to his voice. One of the nurses handed him it. The nurse who had inserted my IV started to push a clear, watery like substance into my veins.

Slowly, I realized that I couldn't move. I was paralyzed. I could see the doctor placing the cold sharp metal against my skin. He dragged it down my arm, opening the limp. It was like watching someone cut into butter. Than I registered the pain. It was unbearable. It burned like a thousand bees stinging me repeatedly. I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness. Losing my grip on reality. It happened slowly at first, than all at once. The world faded to blackness.

I woke up. My breath hitched. A beep started to go faster. It hammered like a maniac. Slowly I realized it was a heart monitor, I took a deep breath to calm myself. The beeping slowed, it went at a normal pace. I stretched. I could sit up. Manacles pulled at my wrist. They where connected to heavy chains that where bolted to the wall. My wrists felt raw and sore. The light hospital gown fit loosely. There was dried blood dotting the fabric. With slow, yet bone curdling horror I realized that it was my own blood that dotted the fabric.

The bed felt like a slate of stone with covers. The pillow was worse. It was always uncomfortable lying down. It was like a weight had attached itself to my back. My body felt... Lighter in a way. But also, stranger. It was like I didn't truly fit into my own skin. I sat there in the darkness. I didn't know what to think. I could see the door. No light shine in from what was most likely a hallway.

Slowly, I grew accustomed to the darkness. It welcomed me in a way. Providing me a space to think. I stretched daily. One day or maybe, hour, I found that my back felt like lizard skin. It was tough, scaly and hard. Alien like. Some how, I think that those crazy doctors... Might have given me... Wings.