Page 1 of Made For The Alien Warrior

One

Symphony

The best thingabout dying was knowing exactly when your time was up.

Symphony Parks watched the ceiling in the hospital blur. An icy feeling rushed up her legs. Both limbs were exposed to the cold in the loose hospital gown.

Her breathing was shallow and loud, despite the chaos in the room. Numbness overtook her body and a certainty filled her chest.

This was the end.

Footsteps pattered on glossy tiles. Doctors dressed in white lab coats and scrubs panicked around her bed.

“We’re losing her. Bring the ICD!”

“ICD stat!”

The frantic movement of the medical team almost made her smile. They were racing against the clock, desperately trying to keep her in this life before death won.

Sweat beaded on one doctor’s face. The light glinted against his glasses, reminding her of the beakers she used to rearrange in the lab on Friday nights.

So many people were throwing themselves into saving her. Though she had no family to care if she was gone, these doctors made her feel warm.

“Don’t give up, miss,” one doctor barked at her. “You can still make it.”

No, she couldn’t. Symphony saw it all from the corner of her eyes. The IV drips. The gloved hands. The nervous clamor of the nurses.

It was too late.

There was nothing more they could do for her.

Why don’t they just give up?

With jerky movements, Symphony turned her head so she could take one more look at her arm stump. It was covered by the sleeve of the hospital gown, but she knew exactly what it looked like because it was ingrained in her head.

The stump hung about an inch off her shoulder. The color was slightly less brown than the rest of her because it barely got any exposure to sunshine. The end of the stump was sewn up nice and neat.

She’d been weak since birth and a mysterious illness that no one could diagnose caused her to lose her arm when she was just a child.

The kids at school had been merciless and creative with their insults. She’d always felt different. Other. Less than. Simply because she never fit in with the status quo.

Going to college hadn’t been any different. Adults were much more polite than children, but even they couldn’t stop staring at her. Keeping their distance. Treating her like a contagious disease.

Whispers followed her everywhere she went on campus. She wasthatgirl. The one with the dark skin, braids, and the left T-shirt sleeve that always hung limply as there was no arm to fill it.

Adults were a lot less cruel than children, but even they couldn’t hide their disgust. She’d always felt like a speck on the face of society.

Now she wouldn’t have to worry about that.

I hope when I finally get to the other side, I’ll stay exactly the same.

It was an impulsive thought, but she meant it. All her life, she’d resented her disability but, now that she was about to meet her demise, Symphony felt ready to embrace everything. After all, it wouldn’t last for much longer anyway.

The heart monitor slowed to a crawl. Thebeepsstretched further and further apart. The green peaks on the screen got smaller. Hills and valleys that ran down into a straight line.

The doctors sped up their movements, crowding over her with a defibrillator. Gloved hands ripped her shirt open and something cold fell on her chest.

“She’s gone into shock!”