All around me was darkness. I tried to move but I couldn't. I could faintly hear the sound of a steady beeping. I wonder for a moment if this is what death feels like. But that thought is put to rest when the beeping gets louder and my eyes open.
I look around to see a white and too bright room. It's empty. Why would anyone else be here anyway. I move my arm to wipe sleep away from my eyes to notice the various needles stuck in my arm, I decide not to move that one. I weekly look to my other arm, only to see nothing. Just bandages wrapped around a nub. My whole body is in pain, like I had been hit with a massive impact.
I try to think about what happened and why I'm here. Only to remember a relapse of depression and a knife pressed against my skin. "No." I think to myself.
How is that possible? How did I lose my arm because of THAT?
I am pulled away from my thoughts by the small tv in the corner of the hospital room. It's to the news. It's Talking about a car wreck. Involving a car colliding with an ambulance. Then a name is mentioned "Sheldon biggar"
No. This can't be. No.
That's why it's gone. That's why everything hurts.
Just because of one stupid cut this happened. It's gone.
Why was I so stupid?
"Why isn't anyone here?" I ask myself. Wondering where my friends are. Wondering where my family is. Wondering why no one cares.
I lay back down and close my eyes.
I'll face reality later.
