I don't think I slept a wink.
She slept like a baby—her goddamn snores evident of the peace she was blissfully in.
I was in hell. How was it possible for a comatose patient to be tired?
"Oh my god." Someone gasped, "how cute is that? That must be his girlfriend." The person gossiped as I tried my hardest to scream no fucking way.
Didn't work though.
"I don't think I've ever seen anyone come visit him." One of the nurses (probably) pitifully added with a sad exhale. "He's so cute too. It's a shame."
Someone mumbled an agreement as I tried to shut their voices out.
"Clearly he's loved. He's been here for two years. Came in at seventeen years old."
Shut up.
"But they never visit him?"
Shut up!
"Nope. Not even once. He was brought in by someone with no connections to him. They just left him."
Shut up!
"Only after he was admitted to the ICU and pronounced comatose did someone come in and set up an account. They haven't been back since—they wouldn't even go see him the first time. They just pay and keep him hanging on."
Fucking shut up, you fucking bitches! You have no right to talk about me!
"Can you call that love? If anything it's punishment. That poor boy doesn't deserve to go through life like this."
Then fucking unplug me, bitch!
"I guess. Maybe he was an awful person—who are we to judge?"
Oh hell n—
"Excuse me," a voice I recognized at once interrupted rudely before I could have a psychosis break.
I didn't even know she had woken up. When had she woken up?
"Shut the fuck up." She growled, her fingers tightly tangled in the material on my chest as she clutched it. "What if he can hear you? You're horrible." She hissed.
If I wasn't so grateful for the change of topic—or comatose, I would have laughed humourlessly at her hypocrisy.
"W-we're so sorry." One of the nurses stuttered ashamedly. "I'm sure your boyfriend was a very lovely person—"
"Is—he is a very lovely person! Now get the hell out." She demanded with a dangerous growl that sent shivers down my spine almost physically.
I was sure right then that she was completely fucked in the head.
"I fucking hate hospital personnel." She spat, getting up from beside me. "Just ignore them if you can—they don't know what the hell they are talking about. Thanks for letting me sleep with you. See you around, dead boy."
Oh my—What the fuck.
YOU ARE READING
comatose
Short Story"What am I supposed to say? This was so much easier to do in my head. And really, what is there to say? You walked in the room. I changed. I fell. "For you, I mean. I fell for you. "-you know, that stuff you see in those crappy clichéd chick-flick...
