insomniac || j.d.

journal entry

entry #33: dead jim

i woke up startled, the air around me was white. a deadly white-blue that smelled like medicine and cleaning supplies. i propped my body up on my elbows and looked around. my vision was blurry for a moment before it cleared. was i out of the institution? i pulled the oxygen tube off of my face and quietly slipped to the edge of the bed. my feet were clad with chunky hospital socks and a revealing dress hardly covered my body. i stepped onto the tile floor and waited for my body to keep my balance in check.

i was very weak, but i grabbed the machinery attached to the iv in my hand and took a few careful steps. the curtain separating my hospital was stained an ugly yellow-orange. i pulled it slightly and looked for any sign of life. the hall in front of me was quiet. i continued to walk, wheeling my contraption along with me. the world suddenly felt very dense and all the white that blinded my eyes turned to black as i fell to the floor.

my body awoke with a sudden jolt, like i was being struck by lightning. when i came to, i was immensely overwhelmed. clapping - the clapping was deafening. the cheers, the hollers, and the clapping. whatever i was laying on shook the slightest amount and everything. turned. red.

i blinked and shook my head and rubbed my eyes with weary hands but nothing worked. my world was a thick dark red. they continued to clap like i was an animal and rubbing my eyes was the greatest trick known to man. a doctor stood over me proudly, metaphorically dusting his hands off and bowing. red. my body felt like it was about boiling temperature as nurses placed a calming hand on my leg, my shoulder, and my foot. red. they were cheering for my life. they clapped as if they would when a child is first born. my heart stopped and was restarted by the hands of some brilliant doctor. red. they started to dwindle, some nurses double checking my vitals and the machinery that sat all around me. i was plugged into at least two. red. one by one they left, happy they could go home and tell their family another life was saved today. but if my heart stopped beating, that means it was meant to. red. and then all that my life was started to come back to me in bits and pieces. i was thrown into solitary confinement for a week and half with no light. red. i was an insomniac with sleep apnea and that's what should of killed me. red. the doctor gave me a small kind smirk and then told me i needed to rest before placing an oxygen mask onto my face. red. the air filtered through my nose and my eyelids felt so heavy. red.

josh.

black.

november 1rst, 2009
12:22am
-rowan