As I lay here still awake, I wait for the scalpel to slice through my skin, but the doctors just continue to stare at me and converse.
I want to ask them when the surgery will begin, but don't want to rush preparation. The doctor began to talk after a few moments of silence and poking around.
"Severe lacerations to the neck, face, and chest"
I sat up and the doctors face went pale.
I'm not in a hospital. I'm in a morgue.