Things were boring as usual. There was nothing to do and her body knew it. So Samantha would just lay in bed sleeping, eating, being mind like livestock knowing life in a box they call a room. She would move, but she was somewhat paralyzed, or rather she felt like her body was a sad sack of numb flesh. She couldn't look at anything for too long, or else she'd be suffocating on account of not noticing she stopped breathing, that is, to inhale. Ironically, she imagined that this was how air felt, like nothing yet something and always existing. She wondered what was her purpose for being here, or even living. After all, people do stuff with their lives every day, even sitting around. She would compare herself to being lazy, but the vertigo said enough on its own. Not to mention, she felt her mind was going numb to the point where she thought there was nothing there. It made her realize that maybe she's dead.
Knowing all six wall of the room wasn't all that bad, though she thought that it being windowless was weird, but maybe that was a design choice to keep the cool air in or something, Samantha considered. After all, the one never changing lighting that made the shadows of the room still, was interesting. The adorable janitor a bit younger than any idea she has of a person under the occupation kept her company twice or less a week. And at first the shy and awkward glances made them both feel like they were put under a microscope, but the small talk was just what she needed to make things slightly more interesting for the day.
*
Things were as they would always be. The doctor would check up on her and the nurse would do the same provided that she wasn't asleep for it. But today started off weird and noisy. Today she was getting a roommate. She didn't know when the bed had arrived or that if the person was awake or not, but she knew she wanted to say something to her, it's just that she couldn't find the right words, or rather, she didn't know what to say. That the first impression should tell her exactly what kind of person that is. An she hadn't really thought about it, but she didn't know who she was. There was nothing to tell. All she knew was this room and all she remembered was words.
She didn't know what happened to her, though they said it was a car accident, and she didn't remember anything. Her injuries told her enough about herself. That she was tough enough or probably survived hitting just more than a car. But the person next to her seemed okay. Ironically and hopefully Samantha considered talking to her the moment her voice sounded like a normal one by the time her throat healed, she didn't want to whisper to her like the Janitor, he had to ask her to repeat herself so much and she didn't want that miscommunication happening to someone she might be forced to be with. But for now, she would just give glances and lay on the bed.
*
One day Samantha couldn't sleep, she was having nightmares of sitting in a corner, whimpering in a cold concrete room. It was gross and unsanitary, the floors had stains some of blood and something else. She couldn't smell anything but somehow she knew it was something awful. She was also in a dark room, but in her dreams it looked grey. And when a faceless man opened the door, it was suddenly so bright, she didn't know if he was faceless but in her dream, she kept looking away from him and when she did look, his face was blurred. She scared, and so sure that she was going to die. Most of all, she wanted to wake up. She didn't want to go where they were taking her. So she just ran back towards the creepy room. But it didn't work, it was so far away and they were so close behind her. She didn't want to go with them she just knew it wasn't safe there so she kept running and running, waiting to wake up. She didn't know what to do, and didn't want to be here. So she stopped. And she held her breath hoping she'd pass out or die. She wanted to wake up. It didn't work. She was dragged to the unseen room. And the moment her feet passed the door, she closed her eyes and took one big breath in again. But this time, she smelt the lemon scented cleaner the Janitor used to mop the floors. Samantha was still scared, she really couldn't move even if she wanted too, she was emotionally stuck to the bed and didn't want to open her eyes to meet the real life creepy room of her dreams.
*
"What are you in for?" her roommate asked bordley.
"I was in a car accident." Samantha said softly noticing that she might not of heard her. "Car accident!"
"Cool." she replied sheepishly, "I'm...in for attempted suicide."
Samantha was mute. She didn't know what to say next. Or whether or not there was anything to say. But the one thing for sure was, there was definitely a wrong way to approach it. For the life of her, she didn't know if she should gloss over it or build on it. After all, focusing on might make her sad, and avoiding it might make her feel insignificant. Samantha really didn't know what to do. She didn't want to be put in a situation like this. But she considered that if she was in her position, she'd want people to act normal about it, normal with her. "Do you want me to say 'cool' too?"
"Did I make you mad or something?" her roommate asked.
"No...Why, why was my car accident cool?" Samantha questioned her.
"Because you survived it...?" she replied, "You're busted up, but alive...Well, maybe it's something cinematic. I doubt that would happen to me, so it's cool that it happened to you."
"Cool..." Samantha said with a confident smile. "You're cool too."
YOU ARE READING
A Mind To Kill The Average Joe
Mystery / ThrillerA girl wakes up in a hospital bed with amnesia. But is it really a hospital? Or even amnesia? (it's one chapter away from being finished. Yay!)
