My Life with Death

General Hospital, 501 Morris Street, Charleston, WV

I thought traveling that distance with a gunshot wound would be impossible. I don't know what drove me to keep going. I felt like I was going to bleed out and die, and the adrenaline of knowing these experiences made me keep going and not give up.

January 4, 2019, 12:10 p.m.

"Why didn't you call us?" Zooey exclaimed.

"Sorry, but in that state, I was glad I could drive," I replied.

She sighed. "I don't mean yesterday. Why didn't you call me? We haven't spoken since your wedding. And not much before, either. What happened between us? We were best friends..."

"After my mother's death, I had to move on. I couldn't keep hiding and grieving, blaming myself for her death and where it all got my dad," uneasily.

I stood behind the screen and changed from the hospital blanket to my clothes. Zooey was standing by the bed with a bag of things lying on it. Since I had practically nothing with me, Zooey had to lend me her clothes because mine was covered in blood.

Every hospital I've been to has looked practically the same in the last relatively short period. The stark white walls reflect anyone volunteering to spend a night here. And that's why I started to feel like a fool. I saw white walls, ceilings, floors, and hospital beds. There are many tubes, beeping and flashing devices, bags and blood, urine, and other fluids.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out as I yanked open the closet curtain. "I'm sorry, Zooey. Yes, I'm confused. "but you must understand me. I couldn't stay in Charleston. I couldn't. I couldn't forget. Understand me. I had to move on, forget, and start over. Now, I have a family, a job, and friends, and I am happy. If I had stayed, I would never have achieved any of this," seriously.

"But what m...," taken aback.

Zooey looked sad. My words seemed to touch her.