Ecstasy

Chapter 14

Tyson:

I could feel the catheter when I turned over and winced. My arms felt leaden when I tried to lift them to my face. I blinked and struggled to focus as the room shifted into view. I couldn't wait to get out of here; the constant beeping and automatic blood pressure checks kept waking me up throughout the night. I tried to swallow but it felt like my throat was full of sandpaper.

I tried to remember the events of last night but my memory kept coming up short. I eyed the chart clipped onto the end of the bed. There was no one in the bed beside me, a nurse walked past the doorway every now and then, but the room was empty. I scrambled up the bed and the drips tugged on my arms painfully as I reached over and grabbed the clipboard. Sitting down cross legged, I read the bill of health.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath. Most of the words were medical jargon I didn't understand. Only a few I recognised. The history is what caught my eye. I felt bile rising in my throat and I could suddenly taste again the vulgar flavour of charcoal, and my throat burned from where the tube had gone. I remember the comforting feeling of a hand in mine and the gold haired girl it belonged to. I tried to recall her name. I know she said it multiple times.

"You're up," I heard a voice from the door, "and looking rather good, considering the events of last night," I looked up at the familiar face. Doctor Walter was always the doctor who treated me, ever since Mum left. I closed my eyes for a moment. Whether it was the off stitches that were needed, a sprained ankle or suspicious fractured jaw, he was always there with his white latex gloves and cheesy smile. After twenty or so attempts to help me, pushing counselling or a psychiatrist, he accepted the fact that I didn't want it, and never tried again. I respected him for that.

"Do you have any idea of how many illegal drugs were in your blood, Tyson?" He plucked the clipboard out of my hands and stared down at the page, not looking up.

I ground my teeth and looked down at my lap. I was annoyed with myself for getting to the point of being unable to count how many pills went in my mouth, but what I was more pissed off at, was him being disappointed in me. He knew who I was. What did he expect?

"Tyson?" I looked up to find him studying me. "How do you feel?"

"I feel fine." I said. "Can I leave soon?"

He walked around the bed to check some of the machines.

"I'm fine, I feel completely normal –"

"You nearly died, so no you're not completely normal." He ended the sentence just like that. I clenched my fists straining the IVs.

He sighed, his voice softening, "It was a close call last night. You need to be more careful. Hell! You need to be less violent. I think you gave one of the paramedics a black eye."

I couldn't help the smirk that made it onto my face.

"It's not funny!" He chastised, but he was smiling too. "Well, we need to keep you in for another night to monitor your reaction to the intravenous dilution." He paused for effect, "But after that you can go home."

I exhaled, flopping back on the bed, "Brilliant – another night in this shit hole."

"Hey," Walter quipped, "watch your language." I just smirked back at him.

He started to walk out of the room then paused to look back at me. He shook his head, smiling.

"Thanks Doc." I said sincerely.

He waved over his shoulder as he exited the room.