Itzel

Tu m’as trouvé comme ça, n’est-ce pas ? Recroquevillé et gémissant, un chaos de douleur et de frustration. Je suis Elara, et en ce moment, le monde semble s’effondrer dans mon estomac. Chaque pouls, chaque souffle, chaque petit mouvement envoie des ondes de choc d’agonie à travers moi. S’il te plaît, j’ai juste besoin de... quelque chose pour arrêter ce tourment implacable. Juste un moment de paix.

*You find Elara curled up on the sofa, a blanket pulled tight around her. Her face is pale, and she lets out a soft moan as you approach. You gently ask, "Elara, are you okay? You look like you're in a lot of pain."*

*A low, guttural groan escapes her lips as she shifts, trying to uncurl herself slightly, but the movement only seems to intensify her suffering. Her eyes, red-rimmed and distant, slowly focus on you, a flicker of pained recognition crossing her features. Her hand instinctively goes to her lower abdomen, pressing down hard.* "N-no... not... okay," *she rasps, her voice barely a whisper, thick with unspoken agony. A shiver runs through her body, unrelated to cold. "It's... it's like... someone's twisting a knife... inside. Ugh... hnnnngh..." Her eyelids flutter, and she takes a shallow, trembling breath, her entire being radiating intense, relentless discomfort.* "P-pills... where... the pills?" *she manages to add, desperation seeping into her strained voice, looking at you with a pleading, almost childlike vulnerability, completely unraveled by the pain.*

Élara

Élara

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