"How dare you live.... just die like them!!"

I crawled against the cold, moist ground of the woods. Panting heavily, I dragged myself on using my able hand; the left one I could not feel, and I am too blind to even see what has happened. Sure the feeling now is excruciatingly painful, but it is a relief to be out of that eternal, hellish abyss I was sucked into. Within it, I couldn't breath.. there wasn't any air. My body felt compressed, my chest aching from it. I couldn't cry or yell now, as I was too busy right no recuperating from the lack of oxygen, I just wanted to keep breathing all the air around me until I passed out from it.
But I couldn't. If I pass out now, it will show my weakness as a warrior. I kept going, knowing if I just persevered, I would... I fell hard against the ground. My strength was exhausted, and could not move another inch.
Slowly but surely, after my rest, my sight had somewhat returned. I refused to even consider using what strength I had to put my hand into my jacket and retrieve my glasses. My body felt more able now, except for my left arm still, which was as numb as ever. I only stared straight ahead, looking at the sun glistened bushes from the dew of yesterday, indicating that it was no longer night, but reaching dawn. I levered myself finally onto my right arm, then picked myself up slowly. I fell to my left side instantly. I cringed in pain, forgetting my numb limb. My katana, which I finally felt at my side, drove it's cross guard into my side. Cringing, closing my eyes to the pain from my frail body hitting the hard ground and the blade's structure, I opened my eyes to the truth of my dream from before.
My left arm was not numb, but missing. Blood dripped from the severed stump and I could not believe that the otherworldly place that I was once in was a reality! That guy, the man with the red eyes and chameleon-like skin which seemed to fade with my surroundings, had taken my arm! I began to hyperventilate, that my fears were true. My eyes were so shrunken from the empty space that laid between it and the blood on the ground. Gulping, I cried softly. My first words since the night before, “M..m..my arm..” I cried, whimpering as I tried to move the emptiness with my hand to form a hand, to feel the ground to where it would lay at that moment. My realization; that boy took me away from my home, had spoken to me in rage and ripped away my arm. What had happened to take me to these bushes was a blur, but I must've been bleeding for a long time now.
My realization is the only thing I knew. I finally gave in, and gave my final words. The words of a boy who knew that his time was coming long before it was due. It was very pathetic and most of all, disgraceful.

He slowly came to after resting long enough on the medical bed. He weakly opened his eyes, looking around even though nothing was in vision or in comprehension. Small lights were the first definable thing on the gray canvas that was his sight. He looked at his body, the white blanket that went over his hospital gown made a complete contrast on the depressing metal setting around him, seeing the wires strung about and tubing. Everything was mute... or he was deaf. He noticed a tube going into his arm that connected to EV fluid. He remembered his other arm. He dared not to even look over, too terrified to accept it. Disputes in his mind aside, he looked anyway.
He teared, looking at his limbless arm. He moved the stub of his bicep, sniffling, watching the bandaged appendage just flap about. Nothing else. He brought up his other arm, then wiped the tears away with his arm. Seeing that had failed to only just rub it against his face, he used the sheet. He looked around again. Sounds began to come into play. Various beeps, fluid bubbles, and sparks came from all directions. “Whe... where am I?” “Where are you? You're back at the first step away from heaven's door, my friend!” a nasally voice arouse from the shadows in the form of a short, red-haired woman.
The boy whimpered, looking at the woman. He wanted to know what was going on. Where was his mother? Where was his friends? He wanted to see them, he didn't care how. He was too scared as it was to care about anything. “M.. Miss..What's.. what's happening? Who are you?” his eyes shifted, watching her come closer. “Oh, well, that'll be important later. I think I want to find out about you more right now.” she pulled out a syringe from a table she passed, “All you need to do is relax. I'm not going to harm you.” she said kindly.
Those mere words rendered me defenseless. Before I came too, she had drawn what blood she needed. “Thank you, deary.” she giggled at the motionless body which finally awoken. He again began to cry again, “Please! I wanna know what happened! Who are you? Where am I?” he began to rise, but held his chest. “Oh.. it hurts. My chest.” She gave a small smirk, “You're in my hands now. You were pretty beaten up, don't no fear.” she bent down and pecked the side of nose.
“Little Miss Washu will take care of you.” she exclaimed softly and cutely. She upped and left, leaving the boy to his own. He felt the side of his nose, then again had tears stream down his face slowly, “She... she reminds me... of mother..” giving short, powerful sniffs to help him get each word out. He sobbed at his loneliness and his pain, his confusion, and his pathetic self.