And then there was a flash of light. Not enough to let me see. Not enough to make an impact on the rest of the world. Just enough to burst and disappear. Just enough to make the perpetual darkness fade, for a short moment. Just enough… to resume the beeping. And the shouting. And after a couple of phone calls, the tears. But this time, they were of joy. ‘Cause guess what world? Rio was back.
I could hear people swarm around me, but fuzzily, only half clear, half received sound. I could smell the disinfectant smell of a hospital. And yet… I still felt numb. Not completely connected to the rest of the world. I wasn’t able to feel the air against my skin, or the light breeze cause by several doctors and nurses hovering over me, constantly watching and monitoring me. I could still hear the vague bursts of hazy noise, but it was still just that: hazy.
My life- well, my dead reality- went on like this for how long? I couldn’t tell. Days? Weeks? And then, I felt something. Someone had touched my hand. Someone was holding my hand, telling me to wake up. Urging me on, whispering something into my ear.
But I still couldn’t hear what they were saying.
And that made me mad.
The sounds of their voice were trapped behind invisible bars, waiting for me to rip apart the confinement and hear the noise. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t reassure the would-be worried voice that I’ll be alright, even though I wasn’t completely convinced of this myself. I couldn’t just say “Hi! How’ve you been? Oh, yes, I’m completely fine after being sucked into a pit of turmoil, thanks for asking!”
And, as you know, that made me mad.
So mad, that if I could hear, I would hear the beeping’s pace quickening at a fast tempo. Steady, but fast. Scarily fast. And so, as the chain reaction goes on, there was more shouting, more tears, and now… more whispers. More hopeful reassurance. I could tell this person cared.
They didn’t let go of my hand. I could tell when the grip tightened, people- doctors, perhaps? -wanted the person out. I could tell when it became loose that no one else was in the room, or they had fallen into a deep slumber. I could tell when something important or frightening began to happen to me when the person’s voice started shaking, and usually so did their hand. I could tell what was happening around me from that person. I would owe my sanity not crumbling completely to that person when I woke up.
That is, if I woke up.
Or am I even sleep? Is this some twisted version of death? Or am I caught between death and life? Am I even holding onto that person? Or are they just an illusion to keep me (relatively) sane? These questions flowed through my head for days, weeks, years. I couldn’t tell the time in this blank void. Ha, I couldn’t do most everything we take for granted every day. I could not hear. Could not see. Could not smell. Could not taste, feel, dance, dream… it was past my current capacity of ability.
Well this sucks.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hello to the five people reading this! :D Hope you liked it, I'll post the next once I get five votes and a comment :) Dedicated to foreverpain for being an AWESOME person and making the cover for this. you RAWWK!! :)
Don't forget:
Ice cream warms the heart and freezes the brain!!
<3 Selene
YOU ARE READING
Hospital Bound
Teen FictionI felt the darkness close around me. I heard the shouting, the screaming, the tears. I felt myself being lifted, barely. I wasn’t conscious, numb. I felt the plastic breathing mask wrap around my face, the IV stabbed into my pale arm. I felt the sti...