It hurts...
What's happening to me?
Michael clutched his stomach, his face twisted in agony. His body felt weak and battered—like he'd been chewed up and spat out. The pain was sharp, unrelenting.
He opened his eyes, straining to see, but the room was cloaked in darkness. He felt alone, afraid. His memory sluggish and fragmented.
"H-Help…" he tried to call out, but only a feeble, unfamiliar voice escaped his lips.
The door creaked open, spilling warm light into the room. A figure stood in the doorway, their silhouette framed in gold. A wave of unease washed over him—then came a voice, soft and nurturing.
"Honey, did you have a bad dream?"
"Mom?"
His heart soared.
"It's okay. Mommy's here now," the woman said, stepping into the room. She knelt beside him and pulled him into a warm embrace.
The sharp pain dulled as her arms wrapped around him. Tears streamed down his cheeks, though he didn't understand why. His thoughts remained cloudy, his mind slow to catch up.
