She tried coughing but any words just wouldn’t roll off her tongue, she knew this much that her voice box had been disrupted after she had woken up from a sedated state. Ellen Michigan, tried yelling but nothing. Forcing pressure only worsened the ache. Her mouth was numb, she felt that much.
But the fact was, her tongue had been mutilated. She wouldn’t have realised this due to the substance injected into her, still intoxicating her system. Her dark reddish knuckles had been bruised, after having punched the walls from frustration. #Red, 01.1.
Coffee Anderson had her forearms in front of her, stared at them. Her veins seemed like creamish-yellow, mustard. It was evidently different to her skin complexion, which was a warm skin tone, veins would appear to be green.
Which they were, and she watched as they turned to that colour. She strongly felt some kind of a substance had been injected intravenously, going by the tiny punctuated hole pierced on her right forearm.
It was clouding her mind, because she saw that mustard fluid gently move up through her arms like a peristalsis motion of a tapeworm. Feeding into her. She could feel it, the sensations. Like something was crawling under her skin. It wasn’t a psychological delusion, there were physical changes. Some kind of metamorphosis. #Green, 03.1.
The telephone began to ring. She quickly turned towards it. A bright red one, flashing from the dial. She waited. It was still ringing. #Red, 01.2.