wake up.

XIV

I blink my eyes open, my throat still sore and dry, and my body still aching everywhere. I groan groggily, tilting my head to the side. I cannot think of anything; my mind is empty, blank. I do not care. I do not need help.
I need a release.
Please.
I turn my head again, this time away from the blinding window, and instead face Dr. Harson. He seemed nice enough. But again, I don't care.
Then I see my father through the glass window. He is relaxed, lounging against his chair, making it seem as though it was the most comfortable thing ever. He is sleeping.
I look back up at the ceiling blankly. Will I ever get fixed? I wish someone would. No. No I don't. I sigh. I don't know what to think anymore. Every thought I conjured or word that I've spoken, they've always been turned against me. Even whatever my father or Mariah or school nurse says, it's always against me. And those that aren't set against me are the most terrifying ones, as I never know if they're true or not. What is true? What is false? What am I?
I chuckle to myself, though not in a humorous way. Maybe I am insane. I smile wider, though it doesn't reach my eyes. This shouldn't be funny.
Look at me. I'm strapped to my hospital bed, conjuring thoughts that would drive any sane person ludacris, and hoping that I would die. That last one's the funniest. In fact, I almost start laughing until Mr. Harson turns around. I freeze, the familiar feeling of fear sinking down into my gut. Hello again, old friend.
I gulp down my fear, but I've apparently been taking it in large quantities.
Dr. Harson walks towards me, but I don't even know if it is him. Because he has no face.
The figure is carrying what seems to be one of those surgery knives. You know the type; thin but incredibly sharp, small and dainty looking but useful as hell. He brings it level with his face- well, to the front of his head. And then he's digging it into his face, right where his mouth is supposed to be. I don't know how I find it in me, but I am screaming.
I'm screaming.
I'm screaming.
I'm screaming.
He keeps walking towards me, but I'm still strapped down. He's reaching for me, and I look around wildly.
"HELP ME!" I scream. "HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME!"
My dad doesn't stir from where he sits. It's probably the first time in a long time that he's looked that peaceful. I want to cry.
Dr. No-Face's hands finally find themselves on my shoulders. If his dripping, scarlet face wasn't bleeding out onto me, I would've thought it was a reassuring squeeze. But his face was indeed dripping, bleeding and far too close to be indeed. I feel cold metal on my skin, and I don't know where from or how. But I've suddenly broken free.
I'm free.
I'm free.
I'm free.
Then I punch Dr. No-Face in his, well, face, then sprint out the door. This seems to get everyone's attention. Even my peaceful looking father. I want to be stupid and run into his arms just like the little girl I was. But I couldn't, because Dr. no-Face was closing in behind me, reaching out to grab me. Then I'm running again.
I must look insane. I'm running around, corridor to corridor, in hospital scrubs and no shoes on. My body is aching, silently torturing me with persistent aches of pain. It's probably because of the many bruises I've forgotten. I still wonder who did those.
But I can't think anymore, or breathe, or even cry. No one here has a face anymore, but I can still feel and see them all staring over at me, glancing over at the young girl who has completely lost her mind. I'm crying, but my eyes are dry, no tears are leaking out. I keep on moving.
Everything is in slow motion, and I can't think of anything except wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up.
I could probably go on and on, thinking the same thing again and again, but I can't. Because I realise I can't escape this.
I can't.
I can't.
I can't.
And I don't think I ever will. Somebody help me.
I run down the next corridor, and I remember that time at school. Stupid brain, stupid Zachary, stupid Ms. Stockland, stupid Ms. Gordon, stupid Mariah... stupid me.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Stupid.
It's repeating. Every door, every window, every person. Everything. It's all stuck in the same loop I'm in. But I can't stop running.
Stop.
Stop.
Stop.
STOP!
But my body doesn't listen. It continues on making me ache all over, it continues to keep on moving, it continues to torture me. Endlessly.
I'm tired. So very tired. I want to sleep. Please let me sleep. Please.
But what if I am asleep?
Wake up.
Wake up.
Wake up.
Let me rest please. In peace.
Wake up.
Wake up.
Wake up.
Somebody help me, I beg.
Wake up.
Wake up.
Wake up.
And in this endless loop of insanity, my mind finally works in my favour. There's a window that keeps on repeating. I need to break the cycle. I need to stop running, and start jumping.
And it's on the next loop that I force myself to turn towards the light emitting from the window. I don't think it's open. But this a dream. I just need to wake up.
I'm running.
Running.
Breathing.
Pumping.
Hoping.
Smash!
Soaring.
Flying.
Breathing.
Falling.
And everything stops.
I'm not in pain.
I am free.