Kate had no eyes, no hands, no body, no mind... just skin, a nose and ears.
All of which were hindered by the fact that her mind was missing. For Kate all sounds, words and actions were distant, all wallpaper for her empty skull. Touches came from a place of numbness, and when she wasn't number it was because some numb Ella was hit with the sensation of falling backwards into a pool of water so fast that her body hadn't fully registered it and secondary slow forming awareness made her brain bounce around in her head.
And that was, ironically, when she was at her most aware. Her sense flared around fingers on her body, working together to turn her over.
At one point she woke up from her drug induced haze shitting her pants in ways she hadn't known possible. Someone had put her in diapers, the indignity amazing.
In the haze there'd been noises. Not voices, her mess of a brain, couldn't make those out.
That left smell, and for some reason that was what she could handle.
Mother, a soapy controlled musk, that made the basis of a million other combinations. If a person could define Mother's smell it would be discipline topped by a bleach that cut all imperfections before building up to something original. It was almost funny thinking about what discipline smelled like. It didn't smell like sweat. Sweat was just the smell of dogged work. It stood out when it should not. It was not disciplined to be dogged. When everyone smelled like sweat, the discipled smelled like soap and perfume. A different smell to that of preparation. Somehow better. Because perfume overpowering sweat wasn't the same as perfume overpowering soap where there should have been sweat.
Her thoughts were not ones she was actively having, were they? No, because there was no action, no element of doing. The so called 'thoughts' oozed out of her, like a flowing river being formed through an iceberg.
The parameter of the world shifted.
There were more smells, good, she could lock on that and kill time with it. There, hidden behind Mother, appeared a whisp of strawberries.
Strawberries!
The world shifted at that only to shift back when vanished. Then came the smell of oak, wood burning and a little of car grease.
The smell of mint and smoke followed, it made Kate gush.
Pine needles and the coldness of snow filled her up too. That brought back more memories, in fact it brought back enough so her mind that could actually hear voices.
Then… finally… words! Kate could filter words!
"That's the agreement." Came a young woman's voice.
"You can't. It is literally unfair to all of us. It breaks the entire system." Said a new voice.
"There are people who've died without a fraction of the attention you've given to someone who didn't make it past the first fucking day. What are we supposed to think?"
The pain returned, her ears caught movement, and the haze of static noise grew into a whining scream.
And, amazingly, her eyes wrenched open.
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Sunlight fades.
Pain sharpens.
A scream rattles through the tubes.
Kate isn't sure what's left of her—only that she must claw it back.