The sound of Alanna cutting through Joy’s flesh turns my stomach and I want to be sick. But I do all I can in this circumstance—I keep eye contact with Joy as I owe her that; I was the one who decided her fate, after all.
Once Alanna reaches Joy’s navel, the scalpel clangs against the floor as she drops it, only to retrieve a small surgical hammer. She then peels away Joy’s flesh with her fingers, exposing her rib cage. This macabre sight is so surreal, I wonder if maybe I’m still wrapped in a drug-induced reverie, but my imagination would never be this creative.
Alanna begins to tap away at Joy’s ribs and my mind focuses on the rhythm, constructing a gruesome song in my head. It’s entrenched in blood and gore, but the notes grow stronger, the melody clearer. It’s becoming easier to hear
