Patient name : Spencer Stark
Date Of Admission : 27 July '16
Body Malfunction/ Disease / Disorder : Coma (Paralysis. originally paraplegia meeting quadriplegia)
Room No : 226
Visiting Hours : 3pm to 8pm
Time flew by. It felt like the moment before you wake up, where you are aware of your surroundings, but you are still subconscious, not quite awake. My hands felt heavy, like the kind of weights in Gyms people such as we skip because we know that our limbs do not have the required power to lift them. It felt like I just woke up after a deep sleep. But still, my lids felt alien and difficult to open. Voices smashed my eardrums, not the same, but they sounded thick, slow and heavy, poorly articulated.
"How long? How much more?!" Someone was crying.
"It has been two months!" Another voice echoed, comparatively manly.
"I am sorry, but in such cases two months is like a drop in the ocean. We cannot be sure. It can be forever." Another sob.
Two months? What two months? Where was I?
Flashback. Flashback. Flashback.
""Can I...Can I get in the ambulance with her... pl..please??"
Sirens. Stretchers. Screams. Shouts. Cries.
It all made sense. Same thing happened, when I was five. The memory was distant but clear. I was hopping in a rugs sack race, smaller than others, my feet tangled in jute ropes. Pain, which we earlier thought was cause of exhaustion, increased, finally making me unable to walk anymore. I remember lying in the middle of the field, crying, as my parents picked me up normally and others cheered for the remaining participants, not even realising that I wouldn't be able to walk again.
How long have I been like this? Two months? What date is it? I was feeling trapped inside a glass cave. A cave whose walls were being pounded again and again by a teenager who wanted to make sure her existence made something out of her. I was just like a muscle ball, twined with bones and nerves, crooked and half dead, unaware of all senses but hearing.
Many whispers kissed my ears. Prescriptions, condolences, sobs and..... songs??
Someone recited something near my ear. The voice felt warm and intimate.
Climb on. We'll leave the bad, bad world together.
You bring the life,
I'll get you feathers.
Minutes pass, pass the hours
Choose one home, choose your stars.
Climb on, Josephine. Oh, the Queen of Marine.
The fire we acquire,
To leave the earthly desires
Come, come Josephine,
In my flying machine. **
Poetry?
Voices faded. I felt tired, even though there was no overall movement. Someone, came to side and I felt a synchronised weight on my head, which helped me to fall asleep. All sense of time vanished, as I hoped I'll wake up again, much more able and aware
**Note : This is to notify the readers that the poem has been created by me, Spencer Stark. But the line, "Come Josephine, In My Flying Machine." is written by Alfred Bryan (music - Fred Fisher). Hence, the poem must not be copied or used without any permission taken by the poem's creator (that's me.)
Thank You
XOXO
(PS Aaaaaaaaaaaa)
