Disregarding all my past memories,I go back to find Emily in a drug withdrawal from all the pills she took that day I found her outside in the forest.
I went into room four which was her hospital room. I walked in when I saw the nurse injecting something in her arm. Something... Blue?
The nurse smiled at me and said I should wait until she wakes up, which probably won't be long enough. She winked at me, I scrunched up my nose in disgust as she walked away in her white high heels.
I hope she trips and falls, or else I'll just push her.
I grab her hand, I press my open hand on her cold face. I get in bed and put my head resting on her stomach. It was quite a big bed if you ask me. Bigger than my own.
I get up to fix her pillow. I place my hands in my messy unkept hair. It almost feels like she's still here. Metaphorically of course. But it's still not the same. It feels like a unkept hole in my chest. My hands feel emety with out hers in mine. It's not the same. When will it ever be the same. I've seen people die. I thought she'd die in my lap.
Shell shock.
AKA PTSD
I remember it just like yesterday learning it in science class. Most common in the Greatest generation during WW2 when soldiers witnessed murder and murdered at eye contact. Usually coming home with shell shock later known as PTSD. With symptoms including nightmares of flashbacks an avoidence of certain situations that bring back trauma. A feeling of depression hallucinations or severe anxiety. With them overtime becoming more violent over large time periods. It is untreatable and incurable.
Me and Emily might have that now, along with all the children at school who witnessed the massacre.
It's everywhere.
