Fractured Foundations

I woke up wracked with pain, a dull, throbbing, and constant pain that I couldn't shake. My skull felt like there were thousands of hairline fractures running through it, each crack enacting its own unique punishment on my nerves. As far as I could tell, every one of my muscles must have been torn to varying degrees, as I couldn't move my arms even if spiders were crawling over my face. No matter how hard I willed my body to function, it refused, choosing to rather teach me lesson after lesson in agony, and a large part of me felt as though this were entirely deserved.

I groaned, shifting, my body refusing to cooperate. Everything felt wrong, it was either too heavy or too stiff. Eventually, I found the strength–or simply because desperate enough– to twist onto my side, dragging a shaking hand to my head, fingers gripping at my scalp in hopes of holding my skull together, fearing that if I let go, everything would fall apart.