The shift

It's cold, and dark. My body is giving up. I can feel myself slipping away. My consciousness has been on and off for the past few days, but I heard the doctors loud and clear. I'm going to die. I knew it. 

I've been skinny my whole life. Growing up I was always smaller than I was supposed to be. It was mainly due to my lack of appetite in anything. From the time I was born I was in a chaotic and abusive household, so food was scarcely provided, let alone good food. If I didn't eat enough I remember how hard I'd be slapped, punched, or smacked across the face with a studded belt. So I forced myself. I threw up most nights. It was repulsive. I hated every second of every bite of that bullshit I was forced to call food. 

And now I'm gonna die for it. I'm gonna die all because I could never wash that memory from my mind. Every bite of food feels like another slap, another stud tearing my face open as the belt slides across my skin. I hated it. 

"There's an experimental procedure we can try, a cybernetic body built by AI technology and connected directly to the brain. He would live but..." 

"Do it" I muttered before the doctor continued. My voice was so weak. "If there's a way to get me out of this hell, I don't care about the risks. Just do it." 

The last thing I remember is the cold fluid flowing into my vein. It was calm. "Flesh is behind you now. You are new."