Astrid
The Pain hurts so much, each wave sharper than the last, leaving me gasping for breath. I clutch my stomach, my fingers curling into the fabric of the bed sheets, as though somehow holding on will make the agony stop. Gamel, the elderly physician who's seen me through countless wounds and illnesses, watches me with a furrowed brow, concern deepening the lines on his weathered face.
"Get her into a gown!" Gamel orders the nurses, his voice firm despite the tremor of worry beneath it. His eyes flicker to me, trying to gauge my condition, but I'm beyond words, beyond anything but the pain that has taken hold of me. My legs feel weak, trembling as if they might give out at any moment.
Two nurses move quickly to my side, their hands gentle but urgent as they guide me to the wooden bed in the center of the room. The air inside Gamel's small cottage smells of herbs and the faint scent of antiseptic.
