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Dr. Nays sleep. This can't be how it ends for me. I've not been the best person, nor made the kindest decisions.

But God, hear me.

This is my promise to whatever higher entity is listening.

I will do better.

In the midst of my inner turmoil, I've lost track of how long I have been laying here. Time eludes me and I continued to fade in and out of consciousness.

For that reason, I can't say how long I've been sprawled across the side of this deserted country road and left for dead like some filthy

animal. I'm reduced to a mere blob of flesh. My body is broken and bathed in blood. I'm nothing more than roadkill. By what virtue

am I even still alive? There has to be a medical term to explain why I don't feel the

damage done to my limbs,

but I'm not exactly an expert in the field,

so I chalk it up to trauma shutting down my nerves.

I can't remember every single event that led up to this moment, and I can scarcely pinpoint the direction back to my car.

My mind is foggy, and I feel completely disoriented,

likely due to the foreign chemicals that have infiltrated my bloodstream.

Earlier I was held captive, this much I know.

I was bound and beaten, yet that's not the worst of it.

My captor injected something into the soft spot of flesh

behind my ear.

I can recall distinctly hearing it gush in behind my ear canal to preserve you.

...