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Weekly Contest #360
The waiting room is cold, and she huddles in the hard plastic chair, the discomfort simply background noise to the panic that flooded her chest. It's been hours, the blood and bile had already dried onto her skin and clothes, but she couldn't care less. Her little girl, her baby was somewhere in the back struggling to make it back to her. She watches numbly as the nurses go about their work. The sirens and the shouting had long faded, leaving her empty and still. She picks at her nails, the flaking the blood falling to the ground like crimso...
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