A Dose of Reality

“Wake up.”

“Wake up.”

“Wake up.”

“The treatment is over.”

The nurse’s gentle voice sounded from beside the bed.

“Mm…” The woman sat up, shook her head, her face dazed.

“The Beethoven music therapy is over. It’s time for the next patient.”

“What therapy?” The woman’s eyes were hazy.

“You need to return to the ward. You have an IV and an injection at 9:30,” the nurse added.

“IV and injection?” Noren felt her mind growing even more muddled. “Why do I need an IV and an injection?”

“Let me take you back to the ward.” The nurse helped Noren up from the bed.

Leaving the Beethoven music therapy room, she saw a row of young patients on the corridor benches, all playing on their phones.

Her ward was on the fourth floor, bed 42. The sign on the door listed the attending physician, Huang XX, and the responsible nurse, Li XX.

No sooner had she returned to the ward with the nurse’s help than another nurse arrived. With practiced ease, she hung the IV bag, tore open the packaging, taped a cotton ball to Noren’s wrist, inserted the needle, and applied the bandage.

“Press the call button by the bed in an hour.”

Noren blinked in confusion.

She watched the liquid drip from the Murphy’s chamber drop by drop, her gaze following the tubing to the pristine white bandage on her hand.

The veins on her left hand were clearly visible, a faint blue-purple showing through the skin. She could sense some strange medication mixing with her blood.

“What am I being given?” She regained a sliver of clarity, but no one answered.

This room had only one bed—a private ward.

So, she pressed the call button.

“What’s the matter, little sister?” A gentle nurse appeared.

‘Little sister?’ A flicker of doubt arose in Noren’s mind.

She felt she shouldn’t be addressed that way. At least it should be something masculine like ‘little brother,’ ‘big brother,’ ‘uncle,’ or ‘senior.’

Noren pointed at the IV bag. “What is this?”

“Just some antidepressants and sedatives,” the nurse replied.

Just as she turned to leave, she paused, then turned back, her expression serious. “This medication is perfectly normal.”

“Perfectly normal?” Noren fluttered her eyelashes. She didn’t understand why it needed emphasizing.

“Yes, perfectly normal.” The nurse’s face was stern. She added, “And don’t pull out the needle again on your own.”

Again?

Why did she say ‘again’?

Noren nodded, half-understanding.

The nurse left.

Noren sat on the bed, staring blankly at her own hand. The white gauze bandage seemed to blend into her fair skin.

Drop by drop, the medicine fell from the entrance of the Murphy’s chamber, flowing through the plastic tubing into her body with every passing second.

An IV drip…

What a strange feeling.

A hallucination began to form before Noren’s eyes.

A beautiful, noble body lay still. An evil cybernetic needle cackled sinisterly. As the skin wept in sorrow, it viciously pierced through, drawing blood, and after delving deep into the vein, began a long violation.

“No, I can’t let this continue.” The hallucination clung to her mind. She wanted to pull out the needle.

Her right hand slowly reached for the tube on her left hand.

Suddenly, goosebumps erupted down her back.

She felt a chilling gaze.

Slowly lifting her head, she saw a pair of bloodshot eyes fixed on her through the glass window of the ward door.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end!

Noren froze, her right hand halting. A cold sweat dripped from her forehead.

The nurse, realizing she had been spotted, smiled widely, revealing thirty-two gleaming, perfect teeth.

A moment later, Noren slowly continued. Under the nurse’s watchful gaze, she gradually rolled up her left sleeve, smoothed her skin, and lightly scratched an itch.

She didn’t pull out the needle.

The nurse’s raised cheek muscles instantly drooped, her eyes turning dead fish-like.

She left.

“Whew…” Noren let out a long breath. She didn’t know why she was afraid, but at least the nurse was gone.

She tore off the bandage and pulled out the needle.

With practiced ease, she went to the private bathroom and poured all the liquid from the IV bag into the squat toilet.

She pressed the flush. Strong jets of water shot from four directions.

The water formed a vortex, rotating counterclockwise.

The direction of the vortex seemed wrong. In the Northern Hemisphere, it should be clockwise.

She remembered this was called… the Coriolis effect?

The swirling vortex in the hole held her gaze. Her soul felt as if it were being dragged out, falling into an abyssal maw, or being churned in a washing machine.

She closed her eyes, her head spinning.

Then she returned to the bed.

The hospital bed was a single, two meters long and seventy centimeters wide.

It pressed against her feet.

Noren hugged her knees. Her long blonde hair spread across the white sheets. Her mind was a tangled mess.

On the bedside table was an untouched basket of fruit. She opened the drawer and found a medical record:

Noren, Age 17, Female, Born 1050 Julian calendar

Violent tendencies, cognitive impairment, obsessive-compulsive disorder, sleep disorder… Low mood, loss of interest, complete disorientation… Social dysfunction…

…

The record was three pages long. She flipped through it repeatedly and came to a conclusion:

She was a patient.

“I feel like I’ve forgotten something,” Noren muttered. “Why did I pour out all the medicine from the IV bag?”

The two questions—’Forgotten something’ and ‘Why did I pour out the medicine’—twirled in her mind like two dancers in a duet, back and forth. Or like two annoying flies, buzzing around her ears, up and down, left and right.

One thing she could be sure of.

She was indeed ill.

“Could it be the effect of the medication?” Her voice echoed in the empty ward, unanswered.

An hour later, she pressed the call button.

“You…” The nurse pointed at the dangling IV tube.

“I pulled it out myself.”

“Why did you pull it out?”

“It was empty, so I removed it.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I would have done it for you.” The nurse’s lipstick extended to the corners of her mouth, but only the middle of her lips moved when she spoke.

So garish.

Pretty nurse sister, so disgusting.

An inexplicable anger flared up inside Noren.

“I wanted to do it myself. Do you have a problem with that?” A flash of clarity appeared in her eyes, but a moment later, a wave of overwhelming confusion engulfed her again.

Noren stared blankly, her rosy lips slightly parted, looking down numbly at her own slender hands.

The nurse frowned, silent for a long moment, then slowly said, “Don’t do that again.”

The nurse left.

11:00. An old doctor and two interns came for rounds.

“How are you feeling today?” the old doctor asked.

“Okay, just a bit dizzy.”

“Dizziness is a normal side effect of the medication.” The old doctor emphasized the word ‘normal’.

He asked again, “Do you still feel the urge to hit people today?”

“The urge to hit people?”

“Yes, when you see others, do you feel irritable and want to attack them with your hands or objects?” The old doctor guided her like a corpse herder reciting incantations.

Noren drooped her eyelids. Her beautiful golden lashes were long and curled.

She maintained a contemplative pose for a few seconds.

“No, I have no reason to hit anyone.”

The old doctor smirked, his eyes showing greed, as if admiring a fine piece of art. “So, if I gave you a reason, you would hit someone, right?”

Without waiting for Noren’s answer, he turned to the interns. “Increase the dosage.”

“Rest well and take your treatment seriously.”

With that, the old doctor and the two interns left the ward.

Noren opened her mouth to speak, but watched the door close.

She bit her lower lip, letting her hair fall to cover her face.

11:30. A woman came in to clean the room.

12:00. The nurse delivered a boxed lunch.

16:00. The nurse wheeled in a cart, took out a small plastic cup, and poured out two capsules and one small white tablet. Noren took them in her hand.

She didn’t take them. She flushed them down the toilet.

20:00. She turned on the TV. The screen showed the Paris Olympics. At the end of the swimming pool lane, people with purple faces were waving their arms and screaming.

She glanced at the time in the corner of the screen—July 27, 2024.

2024?

Her mind was confused.

She opened the drawer and took out the medical record.

It said she was born in 1050.

This year is 2024.

But I’m 17.

An immense sense of absurdity filled her heart. An emotion was brewing within.

What emotion?

It felt like… anger at being fooled?

Noren was puzzled. She didn’t understand why she would be angry—just because the nurse wrote down her age wrong?

She shook her head helplessly. She would have to tell the pretty nurse later.

She wasn’t 17. She should be 974 years old.

How careless to make such a mistake.

Noren chuckled. Luckily, she wasn’t a petty person. Otherwise, she would have twisted off the pretty nurse’s head, scooped out the brain, and used the skull as a bedpan.

22:00. A bedtime pill was delivered.

The nurse watched her swallow it.

22:10. The nurse finally left.

Noren peeled the pill from under her tongue, flushed it down the toilet, and rinsed her mouth.

23:00. The old doctor came.

He stood motionless by the bed. Moonlight streamed into the room, illuminating a dried, waxy, wrinkled face. A piece of skin fell off the old doctor’s face; he caught it and pressed it back on.

“It’s almost… almost done…” The old doctor’s mouth was shut, but the wind blew from a hole in his throat.

Done?

What’s almost done?

Noren pretended to sleep. She knew the old doctor was playing a game of statue with her: if he didn’t move, she couldn’t move either.

00:00. A little elf appeared.

“Oh dear! I’m so worried I’m about to die!” The elf’s voice was tearful.

“What are you worried about?” Noren tilted her head in confusion, opening her eyes wide to look cute.

“Wuwuwu…” The elf covered its face and sobbed. “It’s all because of you… wuwu… you just won’t wake up… I don’t want you to become like that… a puppet… wuwu…”

Noren blinked. “But I’ve been awake all along.”

“Waahhh—” The elf burst into bitter tears, its cries heart-wrenching.

“You’re crying so sadly.” A tear inexplicably traced down Noren’s cheek. She wiped it off and showed the wetness on her finger. “See? You made me cry too. Boohoo… Shameless!”

The elf was unmoved by Noren’s words and continued wailing.

A flash of inspiration.

Noren smacked her palm. Got it!

“I can perform martial arts for you,” Noren said in a coaxing tone. “I know many unique skills. I can teach you anything you want to learn~”

At the mention of ‘martial arts,’ the elf’s crying abruptly stopped. Its voice filtered through its fingers. “Can I watch any ‘martial arts’ I want?”

Noren proudly lifted her head, though she didn’t know why she felt so proud.

“Anything you like~”

“Alright then, I want to see the Flower Picking Finger,” the elf said.

Flower Picking Finger?

Such a familiar name, but she couldn’t recall it.

“Flower Picking Finger…” Noren couldn’t remember this technique. She frowned deeply. “Is that really a ‘martial art’?”

“Of course it is, and…” The elf stared intently at Noren, absolutely certain. “You must know it!”

“Think hard!!”

Think

Think

Think!

She pounded her head hard. Why can’t I remember?

“Don’t rush,” the elf suddenly smiled like a loving mother, gently guiding. “Come! I’ll teach you. First, move your hand down…”

…

“Good!”

“Yes! Like that! Tighten your muscles! Hold it!”

“Nice! One more set!”

The elf transformed into a fitness coach, correcting Noren’s form while offering appropriate encouragement.

Over and over, set after set.

The Flower Picking Finger rehabilitation exercise became more and more familiar, the movements smoother.

Memories of every past session began to resurface in her mind. Intuitively, she sensed something was brewing.

What exactly was brewing?

She couldn’t quite describe it.

It was like a nuclear bomb about to drop, or a volcano on the verge of eruption, or a mountain climber about to break through the thick clouds.

Her abdomen ached, sweat poured down like rain. The climber panted heavily—the summit was right before her eyes!

At dawn, a blazing sun broke through the clouds.

Warm sunlight enveloped her body, sweeping away the fatigue of climbing.

Overlooking the mountains, a spontaneous emotion lingered in her heart, about to…

Burst forth!

In an instant, an overwhelmingly intense urge to avoid utter humiliation emerged.

This survival instinct shattered the stronghold built by layers of medication.

Noren abruptly woke up.

When she realized her current situation, ten thousand alpacas stampeded through her heart.

She had been performing a solo show for a little elf!

Her eyes filled with terror. With her index finger and thumb, she pinched herself hard, hoping the pain would suppress the exhaustion.

But against her wishes, the pain only distracted her.

Damn, losing control!

A bolt of lightning struck.

Her body shivered violently, trembling uncontrollably.

She was numbed by the electricity.

The powerful current instantly knocked her out—overwhelming her mind.

Ten minutes later.

Conscience returned.

She wiped her hand over her body; a slick layer of gleaming sweat coated her palm.

She sniffed it, then licked it.

A sweet, sticky taste.

Noren’s eyes widened in disbelief. The little elf beside her looked on like an indifferent spectator.

The elf was very satisfied with Noren’s solo show, but Noren felt as if struck by five lightning bolts, completely numbed.

She stared blankly at the elf.

The elf beamed, its loving gaze seeming to say, ‘Ah, how magnificent.’

The elf was delighted, but Noren couldn’t be happy at all. A single line kept echoing in her mind:

“I cummed.”