Compulsive (Robert Downey, Jr.)

Rage

“UNCLE FRANK!” The young man yelled, shaking his uncle to try and wake him up. But there was no use, he was unconscious

“Wake up, uncle!” He yelled, panicking.

“Gosh…” he whispered, trembling.

He needed to call an ambulance quickly.

He ran around the house to get his phone, before typing 911 a hundred times.

“Arghhh stop. Not now” he closed his eyes, erasing the numbers.

9 – 1 – 1 Just that, Robert. He tried to tell himself.

“Finally” he took a deep breath finally able to make the call.

The moments that followed seemed like a nightmare for Robert, he had completely lost notion of the time, and he was seeing everything around him as if it was a dream.

He remembered opening the door to the paramedics, he remembered them pushing him away, telling him to let them do their jobs. He remembered escorting his uncle inside the ambulance, but had more recollections of all the objects all over the place.

Once in the hospital, he was, as usual, sent into a waiting room as the old man quickly went to the emergency room.

Robert couldn’t stand that environment. Besides, all the panic and fear he was in did not help at all.

All the voices in his head now assimilated to the old man’s voice. Memories of all the past years, the best years of his life after leaving his parents’ house, mixed with all the impulses incapacitating him from staying quiet in his spot.

As he was about to stand up, he felt a warm, old hand on top of his. He looked at his side to see an old lady, warmly smiling at him

“Do not fear, dear, god always decides what best for us”

Robert gulped. He couldn’t even think of the possibility that his uncle might die right at that moment. He refused to accept it.

“Then… I guess he doesn’t like me that much” The tears started to fall down his eyes.

He stood up.

So many people.

So many doors.

The uproar was not helping at all.

His feet started moving, he felt too weak to try to go against his mind.

He opened every door.

More than once.

More than twice

And even more, sometimes.

“You cannot be here!”

“Please wait on the waiting room!”

“What are you doing here? Get out!”

But he couldn’t stop.

And he didn’t.

He had no idea how long he was like that.

He was nervous, sweaty and panicking, with tears in his eyes.

“WILL YOU STOP, YOU ASSHOLE!” Robert felt a man’s hands involving his neck, pushing him out of the door “MY WIFE IS ABOUT TO GIVE BIRTH, WILL YOU STOP F*CKING BOTHERING?”

Robert almost didn’t listen to him, but rage involved his body.

He was never a violent person, but oh, he did have the strength to.